And Another Thing I Hate About You!
by Ironbear
Summary: "Tiny men with hard hats and jackhammers were at work in his skull, his mouth was an ashtray, he had a ring on his finger, a warm pleasant weight on his chest and a distinct feeling he'd done... something last night. Or maybe someone..."
1. Prologue: For All the Marbles

"**And **_**Another**_ **Thing I Hate About You!"**

_by Ironbear_

A Buffy the Vampire Slayer-Angel the Series non-crossover Event.

* * *

"**Woke up in Vegas"**

"_Do what you know is right, but try not to get caught.__"_ ― Ashleigh Brilliant

**Story Blurb:** "Tiny men with hard hats and jackhammers were at work in his skull, his mouth was an ashtray, he had a ring on his finger, a warm pleasant weight on his chest and a _distinct_ feeling he'd done... _something_ last night. Or maybe some_one_..."

**Title:** "And _Another_ Thing I Hate About You!"

**Author:** Ironbear

**Rating:** PG-13. Maybe R in places, if I get inspired. Possibly X. (Plot? What plot? There was a plot here somewheres, once... ) Seriously. There's full frontal nudity. And full backal nudity. Violence. And language. And Adult Situations before fading to black. Bow-chicka-wow-wow figger out the rating. FR-18 to 21(where appropriate) for TtH, just to be safe.

**Disclaimer:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series and characters thereof belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Warner Brothers, 20th Century Fox, and Kazui Entertainment. Everyone else belongs to their respective owners, except for my own original characters. And hey – I'm not greedy about _them_.

This is a work of derivative fiction. All persons, characters, names, places, locations, entities, personages, and/or deities contained within are purely fictional, or fictional representations thereof, and any resemblance to any real persons, characters, names, places, locations, entities, personages, and/or deities are purely coincidental, or they are used in a purely fictional manner.

**Summary:** Following the disastrous breakup with Anya, Xander Harris is in Las Vegas for a contractor's convention. Cordelia and the Fang Gang are aiming to prevent Gunn from having his soul repossessed. When the two happen to – literally – bump into each other, a chance meeting ends up in a night of drinking and wild monkey sex. When morning reveals a hungover Cordy and Xander in bed together – married – all Hellmouth is bound to break loose as both of their destinies are thrown for a loop, along with that of everyone else!

**Type:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series non-crossover. A "Woke up in Vegas" challenge fic.

**Genre:** Comedy/Romance and Action/Adventure. More comedy of errors than comedy.

Actually, there _are_ a few crossovers. Sort of. But they're minor. And one is buried pretty deep. And one is _really_ obscure. So obscure that if anyone can identify it in comments, I'll rush you your _Free_, Deluxe No-Prize by Fed-Ex Overnight as soon as possible, for only $29.95 plus shipping and handling. Cashier's checks and money orders only, please. ;) Attributions are in the End Notes.

**Chronology:** Between BtVS "Normal Again" and "Grave", sort of, and AtS "Double or Nothing" and "Benediction"

Events in BtVS and AtS during that time frame occur more or less as in canon, with modifications as needed according to changed situations and players, but not necessarily in exactly the same order and at the same time and date they did in canon. I took some liberties with canon events and canon dialogue when used to make them fit the new situations. It's an AU. Deal with it. And in some cases, I rewrote canon events a bit just because, hey: _anyone_ can just novelize a transcript. What's the fun in that?

**Pairings:** Xander Harris and Cordelia Chase. Canon pairings for others. Mostly.

**Author's Note(s):** Naturally, Cordelia and Xander decide not to get an annulment, or can't for some reason. (Else there wouldn't be much point to the story, duh.) Naturally, neither Groo nor Angel are real thrilled with the situation. Naturally, there's little time for the two to catch their respective breaths as they get swept up in the unexpected return of Angel's son. And, naturally, neither a certain Power nor a certain mercenary demon are thrilled with the sudden Xander-shaped curve thrown into their plans. Not to mention Wolfram and Hart...

Beta read by Greywizard, Starwayman, and SamanthaDancer. Any remaining mistakes are purely my own.

* * *

_**Dedicated to:**_

_My faithful and somewhat crazed betas, SamanthaDancer and Richard Caine. _

_My scribblings would be a lot poorer and crappier without them._

_To NWhepcat and Liz Marcs and Rob Sorenson, who're among the very best Xander writers I know of, bar none._

___(And, gee, Rob__ – __ya think you might __ever__ finish The Chronicles of Truth someday? Pretty please?)_

_And Richard Caine, as my co-author in the Nightwatchmen 'verse, who swings a pretty mean stick there himself._

_And to Melissa Flores and Francis Eugene and Robert2 and all of the best of the other Xander-Cordelia writers who've kept the old school romances alive in their stories and archives._

_Thank you for all the work and all the endless hours of amusement and entertainment I've found reading your stuff._

* * *

**Preface: That Stuff in the Front**

* * *

"_More books have resulted from somebody's need to write than from anybody's need to read. __"_ ― Ashleigh Brilliant

* * *

Ok. Howdy, folks.

Man. Been a _long_ time, hasn't it?

Don't worry. Not gonna bore y'all right now with the long strange saga of why I've been outta the writing and posting biz since, oh, 2009 or so. I'll save crap like that for the Afterword.

I'll just say it's _good_ to be back. And I hoped at least a few of you guys missed me and my crazed scribblings.

I don't really like author's notes scattered all through a story, like, at the top and bottom of each chapter and in-between. Definitely don't care for doing them myself. And I kinda figure _most_ of y'all want to read my damned _story_, not my idiotarian comments on each chapter.

Shell out for the Director's Cut if you want that stuff. ;)

So, unless there is something critical to the story, or maybe a credit-where-credit-is-due footnote that just _has_ to be on that page, I'm gonna put all of that crap here at the beginning, and at the end in the Afterword. _Promise_. Cross my heart and hope to wake up in Sunnydale. Eww.

That way, you can just skip it and head straight to why you're _here_ if you wanna: the _story_.

After all, if'n ya didn't, you'da just hit [back] when you clicked in and saw the author's name, right?

'K. So...

Just a few comments about the actual story you're heading into, for those that might actually give a rats.

This fic came about as a result of me thinking about the "Woke up in Vegas" challenge at TtH, and a sudden "What if... ?" thought went zipping through my mind and an evil smile began to curl at my lips. Yanno... there's just one "Woke up in" pairing I don't think I've ever seen. Snerk.

And off I went. _Way_ off.

Six frenzied weeks and several hundred thousand words later, I looked at my computer and went, "Son of a bitch. I think I just finished book one!"

Groovy.

This is a love story, with action and adventure and maybe just a tiny bit of horror tossed in along the way. And, it's a comedy.

In the Greek sense of the word, in places. Mostly, it's a comedy of errors on the parts of our heroes. And a bit of unintended comedy, at some points, on the part of the idiot author.

Warning:

If you like Saint Cordelia from later seasons of Angel, hit [back] now and escape while you can. I don't.

If you like Cordelia/Angel as a couple, likewise – you're in the wrong story.

If you just love Super!xander saving the Buffy-verse with the power of his swinging cod and his twin 50-cal Desert Eagles, and telling off all the other characters and being Mr. I'm Right and You Deserve It! - run _screaming_ to the back button. Now. This ain't for you. Which _ain't_ knockin' that – I have a deep and abiding guilty secret love for Super!xander stuff, myself. It's the fiction that dare not speak its name. I just have kind of a hard time intentionally writing Xander-Stu and taking myself seriously.

Oh, yeah, there's guns, and gun-play, and swordplay, because hey – I'm _not_ from SoCal, and I like guns and think they're perfectly fine tools for some things. And there's the odd bit of Xander's hyena side or his soldier side coming out at times, but that's really not the point.

That's a part of the _damage_.

If you like Buffy-Sue or Willow-Sue or whatever, you may not find 'em here. I hope. Not if I did my job right, anyway. And you won't find much Redemptionista Spike love, neither.

Much as I really love and enjoy BarbC and SpeakerToCustomers's and EnigmaticBlue's stuff, I have a hard time taking Soulless Redemptionista Spike seriously as a character. Don't care what Marty Noxious tried to feed me in Season Five and Six.

If'n you don't like stories where the author acknowledges all the warts and bad decisions and crappy choices characters made in seven years of BtVS and five of AtS – and occasionally has them acknowledged by the other characters – well... Yeah, you guessed it: [back] is your friend. _My_ BtVS characters will occasionally _call_ each other on their shit. And call the other guy on theirs, right back. Like Xander and Buffy in s1 to s3, before they made "Buffy is Always Right!" their motto.

What you will find is...

A bunch of seriously broken people coming together and slowly and painfully trying to unbreak themselves. And each other, sometimes. Or break each other worse, in some cases. And bumping into the furniture in the dark and snarling at each other when it hurts.

They scream and they fight and they laugh at and with each other. And they get in each other's faces and say hurtful and sometimes irrevocable things, and say stuff that just isn't always true. They are _not_ always right – just _right_ as _they_ see it, which is different. And they tear verbal strips off of each other, sometimes in the most painful ways. (Sure was painful for me to write at times, anyway)

Oh, and these guys are _adults_, even when they're immature. They use bad language. They crack rude and inappropriate jokes during, before, and after sex. They have inner dialogues that border on insane and sometimes rub the borders out. They talk about tits and sometimes call each other cunts. They make fart jokes. I'm an adult, and I've had long term and often bawdy romances. And long time – going on thirty years in some cases – friendships with people who can say any damn thing that comes into their heads to each other, and know they'll at worst get an outraged look and a dope slap. I try to _write_ adults, when I can.

And they love. Sometimes painfully and in the most dysfunctional ways, yeah – but that's the Buffy-verse fer yas.

Joss Whedon doesn't seem to like characters who have romances that somehow work despite everything.

I do.

And, Joss seems to think that you can't have drama with a loving _real_ couple unless you break them up, or kill one off, horribly.

I disagree.

What you do have, is an Angel and a Buffy who've been slowly ground down by life and death and aren't sure how to ungrind.

What you do gots here is a Xander coming out of a badly failed wedding with something like six _years_ of loss and untreated PTSD.

What you have is a damaged Cordelia who's suddenly found out those visions Doyle cursed her with damned near killed her, and she made a bargain that, in hindsight, might not have been all blood and roses. With some of her own PTSD thrown in.

What you have is two people with eighteen _years_ of history and passion and mutual hatred and cock-eyed love, coming back together by accident.

Like Bruce Springsteen said, the highways are jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive. And these are a few of them.

And...

But that would be telling. ;)

* * *

Those of you who've read my crap before probably know that I don't beg for reviews. If you like it and wanna? Hey – knock yerself out. If you like it and hate it? Drop a note in comments saying why. Or don't.

Flames will be treated with all the derision they deserve. As a post graduate of . and years of Renderosity's C&D and Renderotica where I sharpened my teeth with the likes of Doc Legume, I ain't impressed much. And not easily, neither.

I won't flame back. I'll just smirk and ignore and move on to a worthwhile comment. Neener neener. ;)

I do, honestly, though, hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing it. And if you _do_ decide to drop a line in comments, I read _each_ and _every_ single comment and try to respond, if I can. And I _treasure_ each and _every_ comment – even the critical ones.

'Nuff o' this crap.

On with the show...

- Ironbear

.

* * *

**And _Another_ Thing I Hate About You!**

_By Ironbear_

* * *

"_It's well-known that men and women are different but it keeps being re-discovered with great excitement."_ – Ashleigh Brilliant

* * *

**Book I: Pain is _So_ Close to Pleasure**

* * *

"_Save me, save me, __save__ me – Don't make me face this life alone __-_

_Save me,__ save me,__ oh save me – For I am naked and I'm far from home.__" __–_ Queen

* * *

** .**

**Prologue: For All the Marbles...**

* * *

"_Even though he was an enemy of mine, I had to admit that what he had accomplished was a brilliant piece of strategy. First, he punched me, then he kicked me, then he punched me again."_ - Jack Handy

* * *

Quiet except for the clatter and ding of slot machines in the background, the normally loud casino was near silent as the two thugs dragged away the corpse of the man in the track suit.

Standing beside the Repo demon, Charles Gunn watched impassively as Mr. Jenoff descended the stairs towards him. Flanked by his bodyguards, the demon casino owner strode up to him, the crowd parting as he moved through it.

"Nice trick, that." Gunn gestured toward the path cleared by the body removal squad. "You gonna pull a habit out of your rat for an encore?"

Jenoff smiled as he stopped before the demon fighter, studying Gunn's face. "Tough guy. I like that. Not that it'll help."

His eyes flicked to the vanishing corpse, flickered back to Gunn's and he smirked. "Naw. Thought for my next trick, I'd pull a soul out of an asshole."

"Hey," Gunn gestured to the crowd, "Don't get no new material, the audience gets all bored and shit."

Jenoff's lips twitched into a smile. "They look bored to you?"

Gunn turned his head to study the various onlookers for a minute, a study in nonchalance. He turned back, shrugged. "Guess not."

"Not fazed at all, huh?" Jenoff's head tilted as he eyed the other man curiously. "Charles Gunn. I'm impressed. Not a lot of guys come in through that door of their own free will – not the _second_ time, anyway."

He paused for a beat, "She must be pretty special, this girl you were gettin' ready to give my merchandise to."

Gunn's eyes flashed dangerously. "_I'm_ here to make good on my debts. _You_ don't _even_ talk about _her_."

"Or... ?" Jenoff raised an eyebrow, curious almost despite himself.

"I kill your boy here, dead," Gunn jerked his head to the Repo demon next to him, who snorted derisively. "Then I take my best shot at killing you before your boys there cut me down." A slight smile slid onto his lips.

Jenoff smiled back at him, amused. "I'd almost like to see that."

"Hey. Bet me."

Jenoff snorted, then threw his head back, laughing. "High opinion of yourself, huh?"

"Man who's got nuthin' to lose is a dangerous thing."

The two locked eyes for a long minute, then Jenoff grinned, inclining his head slightly. "Not a problem."

"Yeah? Once we're square, you don't even _think_ about her - "

Jenoff gestured expansively, "She was never part of the deal. No worries." He glanced at the Repo demon. "Hold him."

The Repo Man reached for Gunn, and was pinned with a cold glare.

"I'm not gonna run." Beat. "But touch me and _you'd_ better." The Repo demon locked eyes with Gunn for a long moment, saw something there he liked not at all. He backed away, slowly.

Gunn snorted. "Let's just get this over with, hey?"

Jenoff nodded, raised his hand, his index and middle finger pointed.

There was a sudden crash as the casino doors burst open, and Angel burst through with a wicked looking battle axe in his hands, a sword wielding Groosalug beside him. Lorne and Fred swept in behind them.

Several of the demonic bouncers threw themselves at the intruders as everyone froze, Jenoff included.

Angel hit the first to reach him in the stomach with the head of his axe, bringing the head around in a decapitating sweep as he doubled over. Groo slashed once at a slant with the sword and a third demon fell away, nearly bisected. Another reached for the souled vampire and Angel kicked him to the side, right into Fred's path. She brought her mace down on his head, looking startled.

The Repo demon reached into his jacket lapel as Jenoff turned from Gunn to view the melee.

Gunn took a quick step and reached, twisted the handgun out of the demon's hand and shoved it under his chin. There was a flat muffled crack! and the Repo demon fell away, his skull shattered.

Bursting through the chaos, Fred looked wildly around, her eyes settling on Gunn as he took an instinctive step towards her. Jenoff's bodyguards piled onto him, wrestling the pistol away, as another pair of bouncers grabbed him by the arms and pulled him back.

More demons rushed towards the Angel Investigations group as Groo cut down the third bouncer to reach him. One of the newcomers leapt at Fred, and Angel chopped it out of mid air to land, bleeding out, on the casino floor.

As the gang moved in, they grouped together to watch each other's sides and backs as more demons swarmed toward them. Seeing the sheer numbers arrayed against them, Lorne said in a nervous tone, "Uh, Angel-kins?"

"I know, Lorne," Angel snapped. "I know."

"We are surrounded," Groo said, not sounding nervous at all.

"I know," Angel chopped down another demon, kicking him away from the embedded axe.

"Angel!" Fred screamed, "We have to help Charles!"

"I know, dammit!" Angel said, grimly.

Groo snagged a demonic thug with his off hand and threw him to Angel, who grabbed him about the neck, lightning fast.

"Neck. Snapped." Angel warned the demon, who immediately quit struggling. "Hey. Who do I have to kill to get some service around here? I think I want to complain to the owner."

"I'm the owner," Jenoff stated, the crowd clearing as he stepped forward. Behind him were his bodyguards, followed by the two thugs holding Gunn.

"Mind telling me why yer disrupting my business?"

"Other way around," Angel said. "Actually, it's _you_ who's disrupting _my_ business – you're about to deprive me of a very valuable employee. Charles Gunn there – he works for _me_."

"Good business man looks into the backgrounds of potential employees." Jenoff said, easily. "Had you done that, you _might've_ learned he," Jenoff jerked his head towards Gunn, smirking, "had strictly short-term prospects."

Angel shrugged, "Then I'll make a deal with you – "

Always interested in a deal, Jenoff raised a curious eyebrow.

"You release him, forget what he owes you – and I'll let you live," Angel gestured with the axe. "Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," Jenoff allowed. "Thank you." There was a beat as he looked like he was considering. "Kill 'em all."

As the various demonic thugs started forward, he turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Angel braced, and yelled out: "Double or nothing!"

"Angel – no!" Gunn shouted. One of the demons holding him slugged him in the stomach, doubling him over.

Jenoff stopped dead, turned back to Angel with his eyebrows raised. He lifted a hand, halting all of his men in their tracks.

"You're offering me a soul?" he asked, curious.

"A chance to win one anyway," Angel said. "Mine."

"How stupid do I look to you? You're a vampire. I can smell it from here." Jenoff shook his head, starting to turn away again.

"Take a stronger whiff," Angel said. "I'm a souled vampire – the _only_ one in existence."

The AI gang stared at him. "Hope you know what you're doing, Angel-cakes," Lorne said.

Jenoff frowned, suspicious. He moved closer, sniffing as he moved up. "Oh. You're _that_ vampire." His voice suddenly sounded _very_ interested. "I heard about you."

Angel released the demon he was holding, shoved him away, his face showing more confidence than he was feeling. "I choose the game. I win, we walk outta here. Gunn's debt disappears," he smiled, showing all of his teeth.

"_You_ win – " Angel shrugged, "You get us both."

A slow smile spread across Jenoff's face. "Kid? I think we can make a deal."

* * *

Angel held the brand new deck of cards in his large hands, smiling confidently and staring Jenoff in the eye. The rest of the gang crowded behind him, as another Repo demon – looking extremely similar to the dead one, slammed Gunn down into a chair behind and to the right of Jenoff and casually held a pistol to the back of Gunn's head.

Lorne, with an expression not nearly as confident as Angel's, leaned forward to speak into Angel's ear, "Brilliant stalling ploy, Big Guy. It buys us time. Now, what's the real play?"

"_This_ is the play," Angel stated, doing an overhand shuffle.

Lorne, Fred, and Groo looked at Jenoff taking his seat across from Angel at the High Roller's table.

"Umm... really?" Lorne asked, blinking at Angel.

"Really," Angel said. He nodded to Jenoff. "We're gonna win Gunn's soul back."

"Uh, Angel-cakes. Are you _sure_ about this?"

"Hey," Angel smiled. "I used to do this all the time, back in Galway. I grew up playing cards in bars." Jenoff listened with interest, already wearing a poker face.

"Really?" Fred sounded impressed.

"Did you win often?" Groo asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Often enough," Angel said, softly. He fanned the cards out, one handed, fanned them back together.

Sitting behind Jenoff, a demon bouncer to each side of him and a pistol to his head, Gunn looked to Fred but he couldn't hold her eyes. He glanced down and away. Fred turned back to Angel.

"This is just _so_ wrong in _so_ many ways. I mean, it's not money or a stuffed bunny you're playing for. It's my _boyfriend_," she said. There was a note of desperation in her voice.

Angel sighed. "Fred, I understand you're nervous. Don't be," he said. "Really – I've been around a long time. Played a lot of cards and won a lot of bets."

"See, that's where we're different," she said. "I tend to get lost and lose things. And I _can't _lose Charles."

Glancing at Jenoff with a smirk, Angel said, reassuringly, "I'm not gonna lose."

Jenoff stared at Angel, blank expressioned as his other Repo Man leaned in for a word. "You concerned, Boss?"

"Naw." Jenoff shook his head. "Like taking candy from a baby."

Groo glared out across the casino, assessing the gathered demons. A growing buzz spread out as various beings eyed the table speculatively, whispering to each other. Money exchanged hands along with chips as side bets were laid on the impending contest.

He stepped up to Angel's other side. "Angel, if we must rely on good fortune," he spoke softly, "I prefer the odds of our swords and axes and the strength of our thews. We should _fight_ our way out."

Shaking his head, Angel said, reluctantly, "Gotta disagree, Groo. Fighting puts all of us at risk. My way's safer. And surer – I win, Gunn's free and clear. No one comes after him later."

"If you win! – But if you lose your soul, won't you go evil and start killin' everybody including us?" Fred said, her voice panicky. She looked desperately to Lorne, "Am I wrong... ?"

"You are not wrong, Sugar." Lorne sighed, then nodded to Angel. "But I got to go with Slim, here. Sorry."

Angel raised an eyebrow to Jenoff, who nodded and motioned that it was time. Angel handed the deck to the dealer. He nodded back, ready.

Turning back to the gang, he reached under his jacket and pulled out a stake below the table, paused suddenly. "Uh... where the hell is Cordy?"

Groo looked suddenly lost. "I know not. She stated she needed a room to rest in as we started over here?" The others looked around, wondering.

"That's been awhile, now."

Angel glared at Jenoff, who merely raised and eyebrow and said, "Who?"

"Our other member. Pretty girl, blonde highlights?"

"Got no clue," Jenoff spread his hands. "Just the four of you burst in here." He smirked, "Maybe she got lost?"

"Or you losted her for us?" Angel's brows lowered farther.

"Oh, please," Jenoff shook his head. "Had no idea you people were here. Besides," he gestured, "If I _did_ grab her, don't you think I'd have her here to hold over your head?"

Angel froze at the thought, then nodded, slowly. "Guess so."

He looked at the others, weighing them, then passed back the stake to Groo with a shrug and a quirk of his lips. "If I lose... you know what to do?" he asked, very quietly.

Groo accepted it, solemnly. "Indeed I do."

"Just make it quick."

Gunn watched the table as the Repo demon leaned in behind him. He stiffened as he heard the demon whisper, "Y'know? Jenoff gives me the bodies when he's done with 'em. That girl looks... tasty."

Gunn turned his head to glower at the demon, and the bouncers tightened their grips on him. "You know? You're gonna die. And I'm gonna be there."

The Repo Man smirked, leaning back.

Around the room, demons and customers placed last second bets. Jenoff raised a hand, the crowd fell silent. He motioned to the cards and made an 'after you' gesture to Angel.

"Got a preference?"

Angel cocked his head, studying the demon, considering. He started to suggest one cut of the cards, but something gave him pause. He shrugged, "Five card stud. One hand, winner takes all."

"One hand," Jenoff said, nodding. "For all the marbles: One hand of cards. If you win, this man... " he jerked his head at Gunn, "...walks free. If I win, I keep his soul, and I get yours."

Angel smirked, "Not gonna happen, boyo." The Angel Investigations crew watched them with anxious expressions.

"I like a confident soul." Jenoff laughed. "Vampire's not only got a _soul_, he's got guts. Cut 'em?"

Angel nodded to the dealer, who riffle shuffled the deck and set it down between them. Angel reached out and cut it into three piles, then stacked them back together. The dealer took it back and began to deal...

* * *

There was a deathly silence in the room. Both players leaned back, looking at each other as the final card was dealt.

"Vampire gets a Three of Hearts. Six high showing, possible straight flush." The dealer took another card off the top, and slid it to Jenoff.

"And a Ten to the Boss." Without glancing at the hand, he said, "Jack high, possible straight."

Neither of the pair had a visibly winning hand – no pairs or other outward combinations. Angel had glanced at his hole card once, then let it sit. Jenoff had taken two, and a hole card at one point.

Angel was showing a Three, Four, Five, and Six – all of Hearts.

Jenoff had a similar string on the table before him: a Jack, Ten, Nine, and Seven, various suites.

Behind Angel, Fred was visibly panicking more and more by the minute – obviously keeping silent only by virtue of a heroic effort and the comfort of Lorne's hand on her shoulder. Lorne's eyes flickered back and forth between the two players, very little expression on his face. Groo was impassive, but the knuckles on the hand gripping his sword hilt were white with tension.

The Repo demon behind Gunn was smirking. The two bouncers still had a grasp on him, but they were holding him in place only with hands laid on his shoulders, their eyes avidly fixed on the game.

"You got that Deuce, or a Seven, it's all yours," Jenoff said. "Maybe." He smirked. "Other hand, I got the Eight I need, the Queen, or, really, _any_ matching card in the hole, and I take it all."

Angel smiled. "Guess we'll see." His gaze hardened. "Call."

Jenoff smiled, reached out, and his hand hovered over the table for a long beat. His hand dropped and he flipped his hole card over.

"Pair of Jacks." His smile broadened and he said, "Beat 'em or weep."

Angel shrugged. Casually he reached out and flipped his hole card, carelessly.

A King landed face up on the table.

A hand smacked him across the back of the head, _hard_. "You were _bluffing_?!" Fred shrieked. "With my boyfriend's _life_?" She bounced up and down in place for a second, jittering with rage, "_Gimme_ that stake," she said, reaching to Groo... Lorne grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back and away.

"Ow." Angel rubbed the back of his head with a pained scowl. "That _hurt_."

"I'll hurt _you_ - " Fred spat out.

Jenoff started laughing. So did Gunn. "She's got spunk. Another hand for the girl?"

Angel shook his head, smiling tightly.

"Not quite, Brown Eyes," Lorne said, holding Fred by the shoulders. "_Look_ at the card."

Reluctantly, Fred's eyes dropped to the table. Her mouth opened, worked silently for a moment. "oh," she said.

Angel's hole card was a King, all right – King of Hearts.

"You won?" Fred said, wonderingly. Then, "You WON!" she yelled.

"Broken Straight," Angel said. "But a regular _Flush_." He shrugged. "Flush beats anything but a Straight-or-Royal flush, no?"

There was a stunned silence. A long beat passed, then a growing murmur turned into a roar and demons and patrons began exchanging money and chips, settling bets and arguing.

"Damn straight," Jenoff said. "And, damn."

"All the marbles," Angel said. He raised an eyebrow, "Unless you welsh?"

"Please," Jenoff said, looking pained, "I do run a clean game and clean casino. Have to." He shook his head, "Bet's a bet."

He gestured, and the two demons let go of Gunn as Angel stood, reluctance in the faces. The Repo demon lowered the pistol, looking sour.

Angel gathered in Gunn with his eyes, and jerked his head towards the door. Only Gunn saw the unobtrusive gesture his hand made, down by his side, as he started to turn.

"Oh, yeah, one last thing," Angel said.

"Yeah?" Jenoff raised an eyebrow.

Angel spun on his heel, a full circle, the axe coming up and around and flashing out to take Jenoff's head clean off of his shoulders.

"I don't like the games you play here."

Groo's sword spun end over end through the air as Gunn dropped flat and rolled, burying itself to the hilt in the second Repo demon's chest. Gunn snatched the falling pistol out of the air, and yanked the sword loose as he rolled back up onto his feet. A pair of quick chops disposed of the two bouncer demons.

Angel kicked the table up and over, and his axe and Fred's mace made short work of the two surprised bodyguards.

"_Now_ we fight!" the Groosalug roared, snatching a broadsword from the startled hands of a nearby demon.

Jenoff's head hits the floor, bouncing, as his body toppled forward onto the upturned table, a gush of yellow blood spurting out of the stump of his neck.

"Look out!" Gunn yelled, backing away towards the AI group, sword and pistol at the ready.

"It's over," Angel said, "No need to say thanks."

"Got that right," Gunn said as he fell into place next to Fred. "It was _that_ easy to kill him, I'd have done it myself – long ago."

"uh... ?" Angel stared at him, then jerked his eyes back to the table as the yellow blood started bubbling and gurgling and something started to grow out of Jenoff's neck. "Oh... _crap_."

"Succinctly put, Shortcake," Lorne remarked.

All of them watch, dismayed, as a new head swiftly grew out of the stump of Jenoff's neck – larger, slimier, and even more grotesque than his former one. Opening its gaping mouth, it emitted a sibilant hiss, followed by a hideous, ear piercing shriek.

Angel looked around at all the other demons and various human casino patrons.

"So, who else here owes this guy... ?"

* * *

Outside on the street, they stood in the neon glare following their exit from the casino.

"How did you know the other patrons would jump at the chance to tear Jenoff and his gang apart to escape their debts, Angel-kins?" Lorne asked, straightening his sports coat.

Shrugging, Angel said, "Stood to reason."

"You mean you guessed," Fred said.

"Well... " Angel smirked, "Yeah."

"Thanks, man," Gunn said, his arm around Fred's shoulders. He looked around, curiously. "And... just where the hell _is_ Sunnydale Barbie, anyway?"

"Uh... " Angel looked around. "I've been wondering _that_, myself... "

"As have I," said Groo, thunder clouds gathering on his brow. "Perhaps we should begin searching. She may be in deadly peril."


	2. Tequila, Te-kill-ya, it's all the same

**Chapter One: Tequila, Te-kill-ya, it's all the same...**

* * *

"_Politics doesn't make for strange bedfellows__ – __marriage does."_ - Groucho Marx

* * *

There was light, and it was bright, and he could feel it through his eyelids.

Xander Harris groaned, then quickly regretted it as it turned to a whimper. There were little tiny men with hard hats and jackhammers, and they were drilling holes in his skull from the inside. The inside of his mouth felt like an ashtray, and every single hair follicle was in agony.

Apparently, he'd been drinking.

A still, small voice inside his mind went, _'Oh yeah? And your first clue was... ?'_ Good thing the voice was still and small, else his brain would have exploded. He vaguely remembered boiler makers, German beer, and tequila.

Lots of tequila. _**Way**_ lots of tequila.

Ok. Time to assess. He was moderately proud that he could think of words like 'assess' in his condition.

Ok. There were little tiny workmen with hard hats and jackhammers, and they were drilling holes in his skull from the inside. The inside of his mouth felt like an ashtray, and every single hair follicle was in agony. Check.

Ok. There was a soft, warm weight lying on his chest.

Huh.

Ok. There was a soft, warm weight lying on his chest, and an impression of warm, soft, pleasant roundness involved with the weight. There was a pleasant warmth of flesh across his thighs that added up to a leg thrown across his.

Despite having spent way too much of the last six years with naught but female friends, all of whom had done their level best to train him to think female; when that still, small voice stood up and said, _'Hey! We got __laid_ _last night!'_, Xander cheered right along with it.

But very quietly, because loudly would have been painful.

Ok. Jackhammers, flesh, warm, leg across his. Laid. Check. Now we're cooking.

He very carefully cracked one eye open, just a slit. Immediately closed it again, swearing mentally.

Bad idea. Light bad, tree not pretty.

He lay there for a time, gathering strength. Carefully, he cracked open the eye once more. Slowly. Light bad. He carefully cracked open the other and made it a duology. Eyes still work. Hrrm. That's interesting. We settle for small victories when we're in this condition, because large ones might kill us.

That which does not kill us, makes us hungover the next morning.

Make note: tequila bad.

_'But it got us __laid_ _last night, dumb ass.'_

Sigh. Tequila bad. Can't remember a single bit of the whole thing. No fun if you miss it.

_'Oh.' _Pause. _'Right.'_

He scanned painfully downwards, as far as he could without having to lift his head or move anything except his eyes.

Covers thrown to one side, dragging off the bed. A tousle of chestnut hair, streaked liberally with blonde. Fairly short, but not too short. Expanse of smooth, tan skin. He risked decapitation to continue the inventory and lifted his head slightly.

Survived it, just.

Ok. Back sweeps down a truly nice curve to the up-sweep of rounded ass. Nice gams. Gam. Whatever. Anyway, truly, impressively nice leg to go with that ass. Heh. Cute tramp stamp: a kind of sun/moon thingy. Generous curve of side boobage pressing out suggested a nice bit of top heaviness. He felt a stirring, and his... guest shifted slightly, made a soft grumbling noise, and smacked her lips.

Aww. She makes cute noises when she sleeps. Shapely foot, too. Red toenails. Me like red.

All of the impressions added together, and the still small voice went, _'Dude. She's __hot__. Way to go.'_

Is, isn't she? He let his head ease back down, smirked.

_'Dude. Anya is going to destroy you.'_

The stirring died. He glared inwardly. Anya made it clear we're through, dumb ass. Nothing to do with her, none of her business.

_'She's a woman. They own you forever. You are __so_ _very dead.'_

Oh, shut up.

_'At least you'll die with a fresh fucked look on your mug.'_

Hey. What happened to 'we'?

_'Dude. Anya. Of the thousand and one tales of horrible vengeance on males. Yer on yer own.'_

Gee, thanks. Fuck you.

He ignored the still, small snicker. Ok. Huh. I have good taste. No – make that _great_ taste. Still small asshole is right: she's _hot_. Now. Who the fuck is she? Shouldn't I know this? Satisfied that it wouldn't detonate his head, he slitted open his eyes again, lifting his arm to lay hand across his forehead with a soft groan.

_Froze_ in that position, forearm over his head, about eye level.

Glint of metal on hand, where no glint had gone before.

Glint of metal on the _ring_ finger of hand, where no glint had gone before. Glint of metal with small, glittering, faceted stones.

Holy fuck. That's a ring.

_'Brilliant deduction, Sherlock.'_

Shut up. Crap. Now I'm arguing with the voices in my head. Huh. Grey band, with white inlay. Not real sure, but I think those are diamonds. Rotza diamonds and diamond chips. Shit.

Uh... he'd done enough wedding and engagement ring browsing and shopping with, and for, Anya, that he had a pretty good idea what he was looking at. Titanium ring. Single square cut 3.5mm central diamond, with eight equally square 2mm diamonds in a strip to either side, plus five 1mm diamond chips arrayed around the back of the band... damn: two black diamonds flanking the central stone to either side, plus two very thin strips of either white-gold or platinum inlay, equals...

Ka-ching!

_'Equals you spent one fuck-of-a-lot of cash on this babe last night, bud,'_ Still Small informed him. _'Damned shame we can't remember the festivities. _Seriously_ expensive lay here.'_

No! Ya think?

It's a _wedding_ ring. Holy crap. He closed his eyes again, letting his hand fall to his head.

Ow.

Unbidden, as if the impact had performed percussive maintenance on his brain, flashes of imagery occurred.

Bumping into someone. Someone soft, pleasantly rounded, almost as tall as he was. Bumping into someone, someone soft, pleasantly rounded, knocking them down and all askew. Oops. Bending over to help them up, full of apology.

Flash of a swing of chestnut hair, streaked with gold. Hot flash of brilliant hazel eyes, angry, gorgeous. Full lips.

Mouth opening, his: "I'm sorry, miss. Uh... let me have you up here."

Oh, god. Open mouth, insert foot. Up to the knee.

Lift girl – woman – up to feet, blushing furiously. _Very_ pretty girl, all flashing hazel eyes, red lips, torrent of sarcastic abuse spilling out of them.

Inviting lips. Another flash: almost involuntarily, his head dipped and tilted in an old, too familiar reflex, just so, and captured those lips with his own. Brief struggle, outraged "murmph!" sounds... followed by a melting surrender. Girl wrapped all around him, leg hooking behind his own, tongue wrestling.

Grin. Followed by eyes opening wide and startled, a hard shove back. A ringing hand crack across the chops. Head up, back straight, eyes blazing, and an outraged...

"The _Hell_ you think you're _doing_, Doofus?"

Holy crap. I knew there was something familiar about the Tijuana license plate on the back of that truck...

Oh. God. It all came crashing back. Or almost all. Ok. Parts.

Fuck. He knocked down _Cordelia Chase_, and immediately grabbed her up and kissed her senseless. Talk about picking up a girl. Not supposed to be, like, _literal_, dumb ass.

More flashes, like a string of imagery out of a surreal porno, interspersed with drinks. Oh, holy fuck: he got drunk and slept with Cordelia Chase.

No. "Slept with" was way, way too innocuous a word.

He got drunk and had wild, hot, demon monkey sex with Cordelia Chase. Across eleventy levels of the convention hotel and Las Vegas strip, starting with getting kicked out of the bar across the street. Something involving a back booth...

Huh. Shortish hair streaked with blonde highlights. Truly nice ass. An ass to write sonnets about. Pleasantly large rounded side boobage. _Cordelia Chase _was draped _naked_ across him like a cheap suit. Wow.

Oh. Jeeze...

Xander's eyes snapped wide open.

Mothering Codpiece of Holy Zeus. He got shitfaced drunk and fucking _married _Cordelia Chase. At the Elvish-fucking-Presley All-shook-up Wedding Chapel and International House of fucking Pancakes. And then screwed her ever-loving gorgeously bitchy brains out in various spots.

Including an elevator.

Wham, bam, thank yew verra verra much, ma'am. Repeatedly.

He even – vaguely – remembered shopping across the strip for the damn _ring__s_.

Xander raised his head and turned it cautiously until he could see the girl's left hand, where it was laying possessively on his chest. Yup. Matching ring, slightly narrower. And a slightly wider ring next to it with slightly bigger rocks. Wedding_ and_ engagement ring – he spared no expense.

Oh well. Cordelia always was a high maintenance girl.

And it _had_ seemed like a good idea at the time. Really.

Fuck. Anya really _was_ going to kill him...

In the face of such world shattering, transcendent revelation, Xander Harris did what any sane man of reason would do.

He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

* * *

Oh God.

There was pain. Blinding pain, like, lift the top of your skull off pain.

And yet, _still_ not as bad as a vision.

Ok. Pain. Throbbing pounding in her temples. She suspected that alcohol may have been involved.

_'Duh. What was your first clue?'_

Oh, shut up. Too early in the... uh... some time of day for this. Hangover. God. Ok. Pain, throbbing, mouth like a cat box. Ewww.

Coolness of air conditioning flowing across her, all over. Naked, then. And not under the covers.

Huh. And pleasant – and pleasantly familiar once again, thank you God – ache to her body. Especially in, err, certain areas. Yum.

Oh. There was a slab of pleasantly hard muscle underneath her, warm beneath her breasts and cheek, leg draped across someone else's. Soft snore, but not too bad. More a buzz than a snore. A rumble in the chest beneath her cheek. Soothing. Pleasant length of hardness poking into the inside of her thigh. Mr. Goodbody was evidently good to go, even in his sleep.

She moved her thigh gently, stroking experimentally. Nice. Did a quick mental comparison.

Not Groo.

Crap.

Oh gods – she got drunk, and picked up some guy and had her way with him. And vice versa. Some _other_ guy – not her supposed-to-be Pylean Prince Charming.

Still, quiet voice piped up again, _'What a slut.' _

Shut _up_.

No, wait. Let's not be hasty.

_'Got snockered and picked up a slab of beefsteak in Vegas. Do the math. Slut.'_

Piss off. I'm an enlightened and independent modern woman. Free, white, and over twenty one. We can do this now.

Besides, if I did, I'm sure there was a good reason.

_'Drunk and horny as a cat in heat? Snicker.'_

Shut. Up.

Oh, gods. Gunn. We were supposed to hunt down that demon and get Gunn's soul back. Crap. I have zero, zip, nadda memory of actually doing that? And what happened to Groo? Angel?

_'They say blackouts are a bad sign.'_

Bite me.

_'Don't you even wonder who you're sprawled passed out on top of?'_

I'm trying not to. Bitch.

_'Go on. Guess. I dare you. _Double_ dare__ you__.'_ Pause. _'You'll __never_ _guess this one.'_

Groan. She cracked open an eye, instantly regretted it. Groaned again. Light bad, tree worse. She gave it a thirty count, added a few minutes for luck, and tried again.

Ok. Eyes work. Ooh. Nice chest, what I can see of it. Tan, smattering of interesting scars. Yum. _Very_ pleasant length of hardness poking into her inner thigh. As attested to by the lingering pleasant aches.

Very slowly, she raised her head slightly. Ugh. Not a good idea, but at least it didn't fall off. Tequila. that's a Tequila hangover. She'd recognize one in the dead of night at thirty paces. Yugh.

Ok. Head works. Eyes work. Let's see... She lifted up a bit farther, carefully. Scattering of dark chest hair. Not too much, just right. Nice bicep. Elaborate cross tattoo on right shoulder, reasonably large, well done ink.

Cool. At least my taste didn't go on vacation. All salty goodness, so far. Farther up... ?

She scanned slowly upwards from there. Good neck, not too thick. Just enough black stubble to be endearingly scruffy. Shock of tousled dark hair across the eyes. Strong chin. Nice lips, kinda thin, but nice. Slightly open. Uh... familiar lips? Very familiar.

Suddenly getting a _really_ bad feeling, Cordelia raised herself up so she could see the face.

Dropped boneless again onto the firm chest, eyes squeezed tightly shut. She moaned.

Crap.

She was in _bed_ with Xander-freaking-doofus-Harris. Naked. And apparently well and truly fucked.

So to speak.

Steeling herself, she carefully sat up. Opened her eyes again, bracing herself from the spike of light induced pain. Oh gods. I am never drinking again.

_'Too late,'_ cheerfully still quiet voice said. _'Horse, barn door, stolen.'_

Oh, shut up.

Xander groaned, shifted, tossed his head from side to side. Murmured something in his sleep, and settled back down, smacking his lips.

_'Aww. He still smacks his lips when he sleeps.'_

Stop that! It is not _cute_! He is _not_ a puppy.

_'He followed you home. Gonna keep him?'_

Oh, _hell_ no.

Xander shifted again, throwing his arm over his eyes. Something glinted on his finger, grey and silvery and sparkly clear. A ring? Ring finger – crap: Xander is married?

He's _married_ and he _slept_ with me? That _bastard_!

_'Groo. Pot. Kettle.'_

Shut up. Groo and I aren't married.

_'No. Just in luurrvve.'_ Still, quiet voice paused a beat, '_Well, maybe not so much. Definitely not exclusively. snicker_'

Bite. My. Shiny. Metal. Ass. It is not the same.

And great. I'm bickering with the voices in my head. Voice. I'm in bed with a married Xander Harris, and I'm bickering with the voices in my head. I've gone completely insane.

She lifted her hand to rub at her gummy eyes, and froze.

Froze in sheer horror.

There was a matching band of grey, silver, and glittering crystal on her own ring finger. Huh. Titanium, white gold, and diamond, a small, never gone part of her mind noted. No: _platinum_, not white gold. She reflexively counted carats. Ex-pen-_sive_. Yummy.

Oh no. _Bad_ Cordy. Not 'yummy'. Apocalyptic levels of not yummy here. Bad. Very bad.

She was _married_ to Alexander Xander LaVelle freaking Harris.

And with a very nice ring. No – holy crap. Bands, plural. Two rings: engagement ring with narrower band of wedding ring next to it on the outside.

The tiny assayer in the back of her mind went into reflexive action and counted diamonds. Added up carats: single center square cut 5.3mm flanked by two square 4.1mm in a... a stepped bridge setting, she thought that was called. Plus the two mirrored V-shaped support bands blending into the main body of the ring with ten smaller 2.2mm stones per side at, uh... xyz carats each, plus three tiny square 3.0mm diamonds set to balance either side of the band plus platinum inlay equals...

… Plus the narrower wedding band. Single square cut 3.8mm center stone flanked by nine smaller 3.4mm on each side, equals...

Damn. She hadn't priced wedding and engagement rings in a long time – no point – but that added up to at least –

Cash register in the back of her head went _Ka-ching_!

Still Quiet voice said 'W_ow. This one's a keeper._'

_Stop_ that.

Then the total registered and her eyes flew wide open. She squeezed them tightly shut again, groaning softly.

_Jesus Christ!_ Doofus must've dropped going on just over six plus grand, even counting the fact that the base rings are titanium. Oh crap. The two central flanking stones on each ring are black diamond...

She revised the estimate upwards. _Ka_-ching! _Yummy!_

'_Hung over, deeply in shock, in bed with detested ancient-history-boyfriend, and she can identify carats to the decimal point and her first __and _second_instinctive thought is yummy!_' said Still and not-so-Quiet. '_Gold digging slut._'

Oh, for crying out loud. Am not. Fuck you. I am so _not_ keeping these. Nor _him_, dammit.

_'Ok. Who _are_ you and what have you done with Cordelia Chase?'_ Still Quiet demanded.

Up yours. Bitch.

_'Pod person.'_

Maybe not. Maybe they just had rings. But no marriage.

Nope. No such luck. Flashes of memory came to her, briefly. Bumping heads with Xander. Falling. Literally.

And that _searing_, unexpected kiss. Oh God.

More flashes. The slap, after the kiss. Bitching him up one side and down the other. His eyes flashing as he let her have it back, both barrels. Then – oh god – grabbing him and mining for tonsils... Oh jeeze. Just like freaking high school. All they needed was a janitor closet. And lemon Pledge.

Crap. She felt a hot flush creep up her neck. There'd _been_ a janitor's closet at some point. Dear lord in heaven.

A dance floor. And a table. Tables. Oh god.

She climbed Xander like a stripper pole on a dance floor.

Drinks. Lots of drinks. Of _course_ there was alcohol involved. Duh.

And, somewhere along the line, shops. And–

She stopped the train of image flashes then, horrified, one hand going to her mouth.

_And_–

And Elvis in a priest's collar. Oh god...

She _was_ married to Xander freaking Harris.

And not a single image flash of memory involving Angel, Groo, Gunn, Fred, or Lorne past them headed towards the casino and her veering off, saying she needed to find a ladies room.

Judging from the angle of the sunlight coming through the window, there was a _lot_ of night passed under that bridge since then.

Crap. Angel was going to _kill_ her. Hell, if Gunn hadn't gotten his soul stealing thing stopped, _she_ was going to kill her.

She couldn't help it. She did what any sane reasoning woman would do in an unreasonable situation like this. It all burst out of her in a sudden, vocal torrent:

"Aaauuuuuuggggghhhhhh!"

Cordelia wasn't truly aware, until Xander's eyes snapped wide open and he shot sitting bolt upright and reaching for a weapon or something, that that primal howl of anguish had come out out loud...

* * *

There was the most ungodly noise coming from somewhere. Somewhere close. Somewhere nearby, a military base launched ICBMs by mistake, thinking there was an air raid. Jeeze. He shot bolt upright from a sound sleep, glaring about for the attack, hand reaching for – and not finding – a weapon.

His eyes fastened suddenly on the source of that demonic howling and he froze.

She froze. At least the noise stopped.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave Cordelia a pained look in the eyes, and let out a shuddering breath.

Wait. Those weren't eyes.

He wrenched his gaze upwards, then mentally said 'the hell with it' and let it roam across the real estate whereever it willed.

'_Wow. Brazilian,' _noted Still, Small Voice. '_Hummana hummana!_ _Nice_.' He had to agree with Still Small on that one.

A flush spread across her breasts, roamed up until it met her eyes, coalesced into a glare and fastened on him. She yanked her hand down from her mouth, curled it into a fist, and the glare intensified. "Jeeze, Dork. Eyes up here, dimwit."

"Uh huh." He wrenched his eyes upward again, grinned. "Hi Cordy."

She launched herself backwards off the bed so fast she left a contrail. The motion caused all sorts of interesting bobbing and heaving and jiggles to occur. His eyes tracked every one, compulsively.

"Don't you 'Hi Cordy' _me_, Jerk!" Lasers. At some point, she'd gotten laser surgery. As in, laser beams implanted in her eyes. "You got me _drunk_ and _married_ me!"

"Uh huh."

"Oh for... " She crossed her arms over her chest, blocking the view. "Eyes up! Jeeze, Xander. you'd think you'd never seen tits before."

He wrenched his eyes up again, scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to achieve consciousness.

"But... jeeze, Cordy." He spread and raised his hands in a cupping gesture, "Have you _seen_ your tits?"

Oops. Really bad move.

If you think women aren't explosive, just drop one...

Cordelia's eyes narrowed to slits. "They will never, _ever_ find your body," she hissed.

"Oh, for crying out loud." Xander rolled his eyes. "What did I do?"

"What... " She gaped at him, momentarily speechless. At least her hands dropped to her sides. "What did you _do_? You got me drunk and _married_ me!"

"Yeah? And... ?"

Living dangerously, yeah. But hell, this was the most entertainment he'd had since the horror of the wedding that wasn't.

If he lived through the next ten minutes, there were _definite_ possibilities here.

Cordelia made an inarticulate sound, her eyes going wide. Her mouth moved, and after a moment or two he figured out that those growling noises were supposed to represent speech.

Speech center completely disconnected from conscious thought, he added, "How do we know _you_ didn't get _me_ drunk and marry _me_?" He made a vague gesture. "I mean, women's lib? You guys can do that now."

"Grfff! Auugh!" He ducked hastily as the lamp came off the bureau and nailed the corner of the room. Shrapnel went everywhere.

"You... !" Cordelia paused for a long period of moments, heaving interestingly, and obviously trying to form words.

"Yes?" He gave her his best curious and attentive look, meeting her gaze quizzically.

It didn't help.

Cordelia visibly, with a massive effort, forced something resembling calm over herself.

"You. Are. Not. Putting. This. Off. On. Me," she bit out, chewing every word. Her eyes flashed.

"Beg to differ," he offered. "From what little I remember, there was a lot of, umm... mutual umm... stuff going on."

"I would not _voluntarily_ marry you if you were the last... _cretin_... on earth."

Xander's lips twitched at the corners. "Pretty sure they don't allow marriage at gunpoint, Cordy. Even in Vegas."

She was back to inarticulate noises again. Finally, "Why in the _hell_ would I marry _you?_"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time?"

Her hands curled into fists. "_Not_ even on a _bet_."

"Okay... for the seriously hot wild demon monkey sex?"

Her mouth opened and then her eyes glazed slightly, flickering downwards, and she swallowed hard. "Um."

"Hey. My eyes are up _here_, Cordy," he crossed his arms, hastily plastering a petulant expression on his mug. Her face went bright scarlet as she wrenched them back up to his face. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, probably involuntary.

Xander frowned as a thought hit him. He was pretty sure it was a thought – it wasn't painful enough to be an idea. Damned hangover.

"Matter of fact," he mused. "I have a vague recollection of someone saying, after the thing in the booth, that if we were going any further, we had to do something legal."

Her mouth worked silently, then, "Thing in the booth... ?"

He scratched his side burn thoughtfully, "Yeah. When we got kicked out of the In 'N Out." The corner of his mouth curled up and his eyes crinkled at her. "There was pubic indecency mentioned."

"Oh, god." Her eyes narrowed, "A restaurant? I don't _even_ remember that!"

The lip twitch grew into a full blown smirk. "Two words: blow and job."

"Oh. My. God." Cordelia's eyes squeezed shut. "This isn't happening."

"Luckily," he mused. "We were married – I _think_ – by time we hit the miniature golf course."

"You... we... you... us... Miniature _Golf_?" Her voice went up on a rising, incredulous note. "Luckily!"

"Entire _worlds_ of new meaning to 'hole in one'." He paused, his eyes going distant and the quirk of mouth spreading into a broad smile across his lips. "I may have to give Putt-putt Acres an endowment. Or an endorsement. Or something."

"No!" Heh. Her eyes squeezed shut; Cordelia let out a half scream, half siren wail that could probably be heard in San Diego. Nellis AFB put fighters on high alert. He really _shouldn't_ be enjoying this so much – his remaining lifespan could probably be measured in minutes about now.

"Afraid so."

"No!"

Xander's gaze wrenched itself from the truly enchanting view of Cordelia's flushed and heaving breasts and roamed the room, finally settling on a rather... official looking piece of paper on the bureau. "Huh." He pointed, "Wouldja look at that?"

Cordelia wrenched her glare off of his face, with a visible effort, and turned to follow the line of his arm and pointing finger. Her eyes widened to truly anime proportions and all of the blood drained out of her face.

There was a near blur of frantic, naked movement and she was back in his face, the offending (incriminating?) document clutched in a white knuckled grip. She scanned it, her lips moving slightly as she read and her face going even paler.

"You... me... us... you... "

He didn't think he'd ever seen Cordelia Chase completely inarticulate before, not even in the face of imminent, horrifying death. Something to treasure in the next life. He leaned forward slightly, scanning the paper. Yup.

"Huh. State of Nevada, Alexander LaVelle Harris, Cordelia Persephone Chase, yata yata yata... " His eyebrows went up. "Persephone?"

"Shut up. _LaVelle_."

"Heh. Mr. and _Mrs_. Alexander Harris. Nice ring to it." Her eyes snapped up from the license; going nuclear winter cold, then as molten as the center of the sun. "Err... Mrs. Chase-Harris? I can be hyphenated. Really, I don't mind."

"Bastard! You... you... _tricked_ me into _marriage_!"

"Well, yeah." He smirked. "I wouldn't want to have enticed you into living in _sin_."

_That_ did it.

"You," she growled, her entire body going rigid and motionless, still holding the certificate.

"Me?"

"You!"

"Us?"

She stalked forward. He slid off the bed and stood up to meet her.

"There. Is. No. Us." She spat at him.

"No. There _was_ no 'us'," Xander waggled his ring finger at her, smirking. "_Now_ there's an us."

"There _is_ no us! This never _happened_! We are _not_ married!" There was a rising note of near panic in her voice, and her eyes were blazing.

Xander thought she'd never looked more beautiful. "Gee, Cordy. Can you see the pyramids from there?"

"I. Am. Not. In. Denial." She stalked forward on each word.

"River. Africa."

"I can _not_ be married to you!"

"Too bad. Married you are. Husband you have."

They were nose to nose now. Well, nose to chin – Cordy wasn't _that_ tall in her bare feet.

"You... Philanderer!"

His eyes went wide. "You take that back! Or at least define it!"

"We are _not_ married! You're... deficient!"

"Well," Xander crossed his arms. "You're no prize either."

Her eyes went wide and she straightened with a snap. "Oh, you did _not_ just say that!"

"Well, let's face facts," he unfolded his arms to gesture, accidentally trailing across her breasts in the process. She stepped back hastily. Ooh. Nipples hard.

"Oh, yeah?" Her eyes smoked at him. "_Fact _me, Harris."

"You got completely _wasted_ and married a guy you _hate_ in Vegas." He rolled his eyes, "This don't say loads about your morals."

Nuclear meltdown in three... two...

"You... you... _prick_!" She was so mad she was quivering all over. Good thing she couldn't reach the ice bucket and complimentary champagne bottle from there.

"Slut."

"Harpy."

"Moron!"

"Tramp."

"Dickhead!" They were back to nose to, err, chin.

"Shrew."

"_Bastard!_"

"Beg to differ. I was at my parents wedding."

"Fuckwit."

"_Wife_."

Ouch. That did it. Her eyes narrowed again. "You... you... Zeppo!"

"Ouch. You scour me with your words." He snickered, "Large, well nigh incomprehensible words."

"_I. Hate. You_." Her face was tilted up so she could glare into his eyes.

"I. Hate. You. Too."

Faced chin to nose with a homicidally enraged woman that he'd known for his entire freaking life – and knew just exactly _how_ scary she could be when pushed – Xander Harris did what any normal, sane, reasonable man would do.

He lowered his head and tilted it in an ancient and familiar motion, reached around her waist and pulled her in close, and captured her lips with his own.

Imminent death had never felt so good.

"Oh, god." Cordelia stiffened in outrage for a brief, endless moment, and then melted into him. And then shoved him away.

The pistol shot crack of her hand nailed him on the _other_ cheek this time. Now they matched. He grinned down at her.

"_God_, you're fucking beautiful."

"Grrlll." She yanked his head down and plastered herself to him, tongue working frantically against his.

Xander picked her up with his hands cupped on her ass, and her legs went around him as he backed her to the dresser. They slid together like lock and key. There was an arching gasp and she shuddered all over.

"I still _hate_ you." It was a bit hard to understand as her mouth was socket-ed into his at the time, but he caught the gist. He moved his hips and she arched back, eyes going wider, then sleepily half shut. "Oh. My. God."

"Cordy? Shut up and moan." He moved into her.

"Auurrrgh!" Her nails left bloody trails down his back.


	3. Time, and Time Again (And Again )

**Chapter Two: Time, and Time Again. (And Again and Again)**

* * *

"_They say all marriages are made in heaven, but so are thunder and lightning."_ ― Clint Eastwood

* * *

"... and then Doyle decked Angel and knocked him down off the platform. And he grabbed me and laid this... this _kiss_ on me, like, _wow_. Like the one you laid on me that first time in Buffy's basement. And he said something like 'Now we'll never know if you could love a face like this'."

Eyes intense as he looked into hers, Xander reached up a hand, gently brushing the hair back from her eyes.

She sighed heavily. Three years now, more or less, and that memory _still_ hurt like pure hell. "And then he jumped to the beacon thingy and pulled the connection apart and it burned him up to a cinder."

"Wow," Xander said, softly.

"Yeah," Cordelia drew a shuddering breath, and it came out in kind of a hiccupping sob when she let it out. Wordlessly, Xander brushed at something on her cheek, gently. His other arm tightened around her.

"So. Could you?"

"Huh?"

"Love a face like that," he asked.

"Maybe? Dunno. I think so," she said. "God – you don't know _how_ many times I've asked myself that question since."

"Well, you liked him, right?"

"Yeah. Kinda." At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated, "Like like, _like_ in a bestish friend like? Yeah, you bet. _Like_ like, like in falling in love like? Dunno.

"Doyle tried _so_ hard to do the boyish attraction and Irish charm thing when we met. And it worked, too – up to the point where my brain went 'oh no, _not_ another fix-er-upper special' and I'd shoot him down. But he kept on plugging away, you know?" She grinned. "But, oh my gods that kiss!" she sighed, "So, if we'd had more time? Who knows... but I know I _could_ love a guy who could do a thing like he did on that ship."

Xander nodded, and the corners of her lips quirked up as she added, "Always did have a thing for the scruffy hero types." She smirked, "_Especially_ when they kiss like a house afire. They're an acquired taste, but once you acquire it... "

"They're addictive?" Xander asked.

"Like chocolate and heroin," she agreed. "But first, I'd kick the living _crap_ out of him if he showed up here back alive."

"Huh?" Xander raised both eyebrows. "Threw me on the hairpin curve, there."

"Umm?" Her right hand playing idly with his chest hairs, her chin propped on her left fist on his upper chest as she lay full length along and atop his body on the only reasonably intact part of Xander's hotel room.

The bed. The reasonably intact bed that their first marathon session of making love hadn't _quite_ managed to wreck.

Uh... no. Not 'making love'. She'd been too blindingly, incandescently _furious_ with him after he'd woken up, and he with her, apparently. Wild, hot, feral, clawing biting slamming furious raw _sex_, sheer brutal animal _fucking_, that was; across and on every single freaking level or vertical area of the room. Damned near mutual hate fucking. And, oh, so very _very_ searingly hot...

Apparently, they'd _both_ needed that. He still had the claw and fang marks, on neck, cheek, and collarbone. And probably on back and ass... and _she'd_ be walking stiff for days.

The second time, upon catching their breaths after her final screaming, howling orgasm had probably shattered windows up and down the Strip – now, _that_ had been _making love_. Sweet and long and tender and achingly gentle. Up until she'd gotten _tired_ of achingly sweet and shoved him down and rode him to gasping quiverings and mutual exhaustion.

She paused to remember the question, shaking the images from her brain. "Oh – that damned _kiss_ was when I caught the fucking _visions_."

"You caught visions of fucking?"

"No! What made you – " she caught the twitch at the corner of the lips that was threatening to turn into a grin and she thumped him in the chest with her free hand. "Dickhead."

"That's a bit farther down."

Cordelia snickered. "I'm aware, Doofus." She shook her head on her fist. "Apparently, the Powers decided that since they were losing Vision Boy, they'd better make themselves a Vision Girl real quick. So they did... something and transferred them to me."

"Powers?"

"Huh? I didn't tell you about them?"

"Maybe last night," he said. "But that's all kind of a hazy blur."

"You don't remember much of last night, either, huh?" She stared into his eyes. Gods... she'd always loved those liquid chocolate eyes... Stop that, Cordy.

"Bits and pieces. Flashes of image," Xander said, the corner of his mouth lifting in that familiar, infuriating half grin. "Mostly pornographic."

"Oh, gods... "

"Bow chicka wow wow."

Smack! Her free hand smacked his chest again.

"Ow!"

"Jerk." She sighed. "Me either. Oh – flashes of images and sensations." She moved her hips for illustration, grinning wickedly, and he gasped. _Yes_ – still got it.

"Hey. Little Xander will wake up if you keep doing that."

"Not so little, apparently." He smirked and she smacked him again. "The Powers That Be," she said. "Powers That Be-freaking-Assholes, mostly. They're the Good Guys, as opposed to all the demony Powers, I guess."

"Having a real hard time believing in Powers that act for the Cause of Good and Saving Puppies and all," Xander said with a snort. "Not like we saw much of them in Sunny-Hell. And we could have used the assist."

Cordelia nodded vigorously. "Maybe they don't do Hellmouths," she said, thoughtfully. "Or, maybe they don't do Slayers. Just their own Champions."

"Sounds like they _do_ their Champions the old fashioned way – bent over and without lube."

"Heh. You have _no_ idea," Cordelia snickered. "Anyway, visions. Intense, technicolor, panoramic, violently painful visions. Capital Vee, capital Pain."

"Ouch." His eyes went hard momentarily. "Sorry."

"Oh, not anymore," Cordelia assured him. "On my birthday, this year, I had this whole spiritual journey thingy and saw what could and would have been if Angel'd gotten them, and then an agent of the Powers made me part demon so I could stand them." Frowning at the look growing on his face, she added, "Poof! No more pain."

"Part demon?"

"What – is that a deal breaker, Hyena Boy?"

"Me? Anya, Demon Queen of Orgasm Hunting?" he shook his head. "Not very likely. But why... ?"

"Because they were _killing_ me, dumbass!" She thumped him softly at his shocked expression. "Yeah. Killing. Pain, brain damage, MRI, CAT scan showing massive trauma, next one woulda been _it_."

"Gods, Cordy." Xander's eyes were wide and appalled. "Why the nine hells didn't you call me? Tell us?"

"And what would you have done?" she asked, seriously.

"Dragged you to Giles! Roped in Willow and Tara to help him find a cure or something, jeeze." His eyes were incredulous as they locked with hers.

"Oh, like Wesley didn't look?" At his raised eyebrow and derisive snort, she thumped him again. "Hey! Wesley's changed. And he knows his stuff."

"And Giles is _Giles_. He'd have turned the world inside out to help you." He cupped her cheek, thumb stroking softly across her lips, and she turned her face into his palm, tears threatening to burst out. "We all would. _I_ would."

"Oh, really? After the way I treated you?"

His thumb went to the other cheek and her turned her face to lock eyes with him. "I would have gone to the Powers, to Hell itself, and _made_ them fix it."

"Right." There was something in those eyes that wouldn't let her scoff, as much as she wanted to.

"Bet on it," he said, softly. "No Power on this Earth, or off of it."

"Yeah?"

"Though all the hosts of Hell bar the way, Cordelia Persephone Chase-Harris. _And_ those of Heaven."

Her eyes teared up, and she didn't even think to bristle at the 'Chase-Harris' thing. "So, when did you get so silver-tongued?"

Xander's only answer was drawing her up and slowly, while looking deeply into her eyes – into her very _soul_ – slowly and exquisitely kissing her into a melting, achingly soft dissolving puddle of movement and hands and lips and tongues and heat and tiny, soft whimpering cries...

* * *

Coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice and croissant and danish and strawberries with real cream. And crepes and blintzes, whatever the difference was. And oh gods _aspirin_. And those little cups of espresso with a shot of cointreau for after the food and hair-of-the-dog. And lots of ice cold water. The Fitzgerald's room service put on a hellofa good breakfast spread, he decided.

Xander was pleasantly stuffed and de-hangovered and listening to Cordelia's ramblings on Angel the Investigations, Year II.

"... and that's when Angel fired us all," Cordelia said. She leaned on one elbow next to Xander, her right hand stroking slow circles through his chest hair. "And so we set up our own agency, y'know, to continue the helping thing."

"Darla," Xander's eyes narrowed. "I can't believe those idiots brought back Darla, of all vampires. And Angel _slept_ with her and threw you guys away over her."

The vehemence in his voice made her look at him sharply. "Wow. So very much of the hate there. A Darla thing? Or an Angel thing?"

He snorted. "Can't be both?" When her eyes narrowed, he held up his hand, the one not trapped around her waist, palm out. "Pax. But... _Darla_." As her eyes went puzzled, he shook his head, "She's the one who lured and killed and turned Jesse," Xander said, his voice flat and cold.

"Oh." Cordelia's eyes widened. "Oh! Crap."

"Yeah," Xander said. "Crap."

"I don't think I ever knew that," she said, wonderingly. "Explains the hate. And the sudden frost to the eyes."

"Bad enough you saw me stake him," Xander shrugged. "And had to see him go from being your helpless slave to Evil Vampire Jesse 'Wanna-rape-and-drain-me-some-Cordy' McNally. You never needed the rest of it."

"Gods." She shivered, her eyes widened.

"We never did talk about Jesse much, after he was gone," Xander said, his eyes and voice soft.

"I... I blanked out so much of that, until my face finally got slammed into it. I had nightmares about yellow eyes and that... that _sneer_. So very _much_ not Jesse."

"And yet so very much yes, Jesse," he stated. At her sharp look, Xander shrugged again. "Yeah, yeah. Demon takes up residence, person gone, yata yata – and yet everything that makes up the person? Still there. Cordy lust and Cordy crush becomes Cordy obsession and Cordy blood-lust. But he didn't go after Harmony... "

"And Angel... ?" She whispered.

He nodded, "And Angel was sired by Darla. And he didn't do a fucking thing one to help – just gave Buffy the cryptic four-one-one." He laughed, a harsh sound that almost broke in his chest. "And Angel got the second chance, and the third, and yet _again_ when he came back from Hell. And Jesse? Dust in the Bronze."

"We didn't _know_ you could re-soul someone then."

"Yeah." His lip quirked up at the corner, but the eyes were empty. "Doesn't help."

"No." She captured his hand in her free one, linked the fingers, and pulled it to her lips and kissed the back of it. "Damn."

"Easy come, easy go."

She caught his eyes in a hot glare. "Don't. Don't make light. _Don't_ laugh it off with some stupid joke, dammit." She bore into his eyes with her own, "It happened and it hurt and it was scary as all hell. And you saved my _life_, Jerkweed." She whispered, fiercely, "That's _important_ to me, dumbass. And I never thanked you for it."

He bore into her eyes right back, "We lost Porthos. Couldn't lose D'Artagnan too."

"Oh, god." She gasped out a laugh, "I'd _forgotten_ about that. The Four Musketeers."

"When we got those costumes out of Willow's attic back in the fourth grade, and those wooden swords at the Renn Faire, and dragged you into it because we needed a fourth."

"And _Harmony_, because you were convinced you needed a Maid Marian and she was blonde." She snickered. "Trust you to not believe that Maid Marian was Robin Hood, not the Musketeers, no matter _how_ much me and Willow argued with you."

Xander's jaw set, mulishly. "There should have been a Marion, dammit. And Jesse had a bow."

"And the sucker cap fell off the arrow and he shot Harm in the ass with it, and she decked him and ran off crying," she started laughing helplessly, "And told _mommy_ Kendall, and Mr. McNally broke the bow across _his_ ass paddling him with it."

"And that was the _last _time that Harmony ever, ever had anything to do with us that wasn't being mean and vicious," he said, laughing himself. "I didn't realize she was so _attached_ to that ass."

"Hey! I still don't know how you talked _me_ into it! That was _after_ I started hating you guys," Cordelia said.

"I should have shot you in the ass for good measure," Xander said, nodding.

She made a derisive noise in her throat. "Wouldn't have dared. You already _knew_ I could beat _you_ up."

"Hey! You sucker punched me that time!" Xander stuck his tongue out at her. She snapped at it playfully.

"I tell you that Harmony showed up in LA, wanting to be friends again?"

"Nooo... " Xander's eyes went wide, "You mean, post vamping?"

"Yup." Cordelia nodded seriously. "And I didn't know, and she snuck into my room late at night and I woke up and caught her looking at me with the weirdest expression, and she said she had these _urges_ she just couldn't control... "

"No." Beginning to see where this was going, Xander's lips started twitching uncontrollably.

"Yes!" Cordelia started to swat him, and realized he still had her free hand captured. Not-free hand. "And, naturally, I thought she meant- "

"She wanted hot, steamy girl on girl sex with the Cordy... "

"Yes! And hey – open minded girl here, but jeeze, I never _thought_ of _Harmony _that way." She giggled, "And so I called Willow the next day and _she_ told me Harm was vamped. And – hey!" she yanked her hand free, and slapped Xander on the chest again. "Thank you _so_ much for calling down and letting us know, jeeze!"

"Hey! Ow! We thought you knew! She died at Graduation and everything." He grabbed her hand again.

"_I_ didn't know that she was _vamped_ dead, dumbass." Cordelia shook her head, continuing, "And so Willow calls the office and warns Angel, and Wesley bursts in with a crossbow awhile later and finds– "

"Harmony– "

"Painting my toenails and chattering about unicorns and the Prom committee," she finished.

"Snerk. Yup, that's our Harm." Xander said, laughing. "She's the only person I know who's personality was ever _improved_ by being vamped," he considered, "along with her IQ."

"Hey!" Cordelia's eyes widened in outrage, "She – uh, well, actually... you are not wrong."

Sniggering, Xander met her eyes and paused, a slightly distant and thoughtful look coming over his face.

"What?'

"That is _so_ very erotic."

"_What_?"

"Painting your toenails," Xander said, seriously. "And hot, steamy, Cordy and Harmony girl on girl action."

"What?! And, hey," Cordelia's eyes widened as he leaned over towards her, his eyes smouldering. "Wait... " she pulled back, scooting away, "I told you we need to go," she narrowly evaded his lips, "like, real," her still trapped hand stopped her retreat, "and don't you- mrrmph!"

She broke away from the kiss, desperately, "Dare- mrmmph!" Xander captured her mouth again, leaning in and over her, his other arm snaking about her waist again. She dissolved into it for an endless moment until she summoned up all her will and jerked her head back, eyes desperate.

"Stop- don't- " The kiss intensified and she pulled back again, briefly, "Mrrmmph!"

He paused, his eyes centimeters from her own, gaze molten. "Stop? Don't? Dare? Don't dare what?"

"Don't you _dare_ stop," Cordelia finished, lunging back in on him. "Bastard."

Grinning, he captured her other hand and rolled over with her, stretching her hands above her head, both sets of fingers clasped together. "Wasn't planning to," he said, "Bitch."

Moans answered him.

* * *

".. and so, Wesley took Connor, and then Justine cut his throat and grabbed the baby. But he managed to survive, and got found and hauled to the hospital – more lives than Buffy, jeeze. And finally, when Angel and Gunn caught up to them, Holtz jumped into this portal into some horrid demon dimension, holding Connor, while Angel was facing off with Wolfram and Hart."

Cordelia took a last drink from her sparkling water before sighing and leaning across Xander to set it on the room service tray on the – somewhat disheveled looking – bedside cart. Damn. Great lunch. And apparently she'd needed the fuel, she reflected, judging by the remnants of what she'd packed away. Not to _mention_ Xander's debris. On top of that _fantastic_ breakfast.

"Crap," Xander said, shaking his head, "I'm torn between thinking 'that _sucks_' and wanting to write all this up to submit as scripts to the Passions crew."

"Hah. Is so very soap opera, isn't it?" Cordy smirked, then sobered, her eyes going wet, "But, oh gods, so very not funny. I loved that kid, dammit!"

"I know. Shh." Xander drew her in and wrapped her up in his arms.

"I should have been there."

"I know."

She pulled loose and leaned back, propping herself up on her arms. Her eye caught a glimpse of the digital alarm clock, and she scowled.

"Ok, crap, I really need to start getting out of here," Cordelia said.

"Sigh." Xander stuck his lower lip out.

"Don't _even_ start with the puppy eyes and the quivering lower lip, Doofus. I mean it," she shook her finger at him. He reached out and nipped at it. "Hey!" she yanked it back, curling it protectively into her hand.

Smirking, Xander said, "Yanno, they've either fixed the problem by now, or it's not fixable."

Cordelia's eyes widened, a bolt of fear shooting through her. She thumped him on the chest, "Don't _say_ that! Angel _wouldn't_ have let Gunn's soul get sucked out."

"Meaning the emergency is over and they're off celebrating."

"But they have no idea where I am," she said. "They're probably worried sick."

"So _call_ them, jeeze," Xander said. "Did those blonde streaks pull a Buffy on you?"

"You!" She felt her eyes narrowing, "Don't _even_ go there. I am not a half-blonde bimbo."

"Ok," Xander said, easily. "You are not half blonde."

"Meaning... ?" Cordelia fixed him with her best glare, "And think _carefully_ on your answer, Geek Boy."

"Meaning... " She looked at him expectantly, an eyebrow going up. "You are half brunette," he smirked. He caught her hand, hastily, before impact. "So _call_ them."

She opened her mouth, closed it with an exasperated huff, "Like _Angel_ can ever figure out how to keep his cell on and charged. And Gunn and Fred don't even have cells, I don't think."

"Sigh. Ok, ok. Keep your pants on." A skeptical look nailed him. "If you had pants on."

She sat up, stretching like a cat, and he swept the covers back. Almost involuntarily, her gaze swept along his frame, pausing abruptly.

"Jeeze. _Again_?" Cordelia felt a smirk coming over her face, "Doesn't that thing _ever_ go down?"

"Down. And up. And down. And up." Xander smirked back at her. "I'm in my sexual peak years, Cordy," he waggled his eyebrows.

That startled a huff of laughter out of her, "You're male. Your sexual peak was at seventeen."

"And aren't you sad you wasted those years?"

"Oh, you _wish_," she snickered. Her mind went there anyway, and she felt her mouth go dry. She swallowed, abruptly.

He caught the swallow, and his smirk widened. Her eyes went down again, involuntarily. His... interest rose to meet them. "So... you were saying?"

"Good gods. But... Four times now?"

"Thank god there's no linoleum around," he said. "I'd never get my pants on."

"Oh gods. We'll never live that down," she sighed. Without her consent, her tongue came out and ran across her suddenly dry lips. "So. Aren't you going to introduce me to your little friend?" she asked, archly.

Xander clasped his fingers behind his back and leaned against the pillows, stretching comfortably. Infuriatingly comfortably, as a matter of fact. He raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty sure you and the Crimson Commando have met before," he smirked.

'Crimson commando'? she mouthed silently, slightly boggled.

"And definitely certain that last night was at _least_ the equivalent of a formal introduction. And this morning." Cordelia felt herself blush furiously. "But if you insist?" he shrugged.

"Crimson, meet Cordy. Cordy, meet Crimson." He did something with his muscles and it gave a little twitch and bob. Almost like a tiny bow.

She could _swear_ it winked at her with its one, tiny little eye.

Eww.

The smack of the flat of her hand on his chest sounded like a pistol shot. "Ow!" Xander crossed his arms over his abused chest and rolled onto his side, doubled over laughing.

"Stop that!" Cordy shook her head. "God – you are _still_ such a dork. Dork." She huffed, blowing hair out of her eyes, tossed her head. "That's dis_gus_ting, jeeze."

"But it was funny, huh." He twitched it again.

"No. Was not." She met Xander's dancing eyes for oh, about twenty seconds before she started snickering, then broke out laughing herself.

"Jerk." She shook her head. "You _named_ your _penis_? Men!" Laughing, "And, and, Crimson Commando?"

"It was either that, or Mr. Winky." Wink. Twitch.

Cordelia thought about that, against her will, for about one frozen second, then doubled over guffawing.

"Self defense. You don't _even_ want to know what Anya wanted to name him... "

"Oh, God. Stop. Please."

"See, we were watching this porn movie one night and... " Twitch. Wink.

"No. Stop. Please stop." She couldn't breath and it hurt laughing so hard. "And stop twitching that... that... _thing _at me. Oh god."

Xander rolled over and clasped his hands behind his head again, grinning.

Twitch. Wink. Twitch.

"No! Stop that!" She managed to pull a straight face long enough to glare at him, "Or I swear to God he's coming home with me. Sans you."

Xander rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, and reached to pull the covers across his waist.

"Fine. Happy now?"

"No." She smirked. "But it'll do." Sighing, she slid off the bed and stood up, looking around for her clothing. It had to be around here somewhere...

Spotting her bra beside the decidedly leaning-to-one-side on three legs bureau, she bent over to pick it up. Suddenly, there was a presence behind her and a pair of arms circling her waist as she straightened.

And a twitch and a wink snuggling into the crack of her ass...

"_Don't_ point that thing at me!" Cordelia arched involuntarily and leaned back as Xander's lips started trailing a line of fire along her neck and his hands slipped up her stomach to her breasts. "It might go off!"

"It's ok. It's a seven shooter."

"Oh, gods." Her brain melted... "But but... but... "

"And a really nice one it is, too." One hand did something incredible to a nipple as the other slid downwards, trailing a matching line of flame down her stomach and between her legs. She felt warm breath on her cheek as lips started playing with her earlobe.

"Uh... " she squirmed, her hips bucked and colors danced behind her closed eyelids. "Angel won't... be able... ungh... to go out... nngh... where we can... guh... find him until..."

"After dark, uh huh." That questing finger found a rhythm and her voice went to making inarticulate noises. "So, gee Cordy... Crimson Commando wants to go home in you. Err... with you." Her back arched and she convulsed around his hand, head thrown back against his shoulder and mouth wide and gasping.

Still Quiet Voice remarked, '_Yup. Cat, heat. Definitely._'

A mental fuck off! was an option, but her mind wasn't forming words right then.

She grabbed the edge of the tilting bureau as Xander leaned her forward and the _rest_ of her melted. At least she and her brain matched now.

Poor Gunn. She _really _hoped his soul was ok.

* * *

.


	4. Into the Jaws of Death, or Something

**Chapter Three: Into the Jaws of Death, or Something Like...**

* * *

"_The best thing about being too late is that there's no more need to hurry."_ – Ashleigh Brilliant

* * *

"We are _so_ very getting annulled," Cordelia was saying, as she finished hunting up the last of her clothing.

"I'm not so sure it's that easy, Cordy." He strenuously managed to keep his face straight as she mournfully eyed the destroyed remnants of her panties, dangling from one finger by the remaining leg hole.

Rolling her eyes, she huffed out a breath, blowing hair out of her eyes and tossed the panties up and away with an expression of disgusted resignation.

They landed on the ceiling fan and began their last, very circular journey before ending up in the hotel incinerator. He couldn't help it: he watched them go 'round in wide eyed fascination and busted out laughing.

"You... !" Cordy's gaze followed his, and her face fell. She rolled her eyes again, and started laughing herself, helplessly. "Jerk!"

Xander fell back onto the bed, holding his stomach. "I'm sorry, Cordy. It's just... " he gestured at the panty fan-dangle-whirl-a-gig and giggled helplessly.

"Fault. Yours," she growled between gasps.

"We should give them a decent Christian burial," he gasped. "They were martyred in the throes of heroic passion."

"Oh, shut up."

"Gave their all for the cause."

"Shut. Up." She collapsed against the wall, giggling helplessly along with him.

"Took one for the team." Xander ducked to one side as her bra came flying at his face, catching it before it could bounce. Or maybe stick... he'd better not say that, he figured. He was living on borrowed time as it was.

"You _know_ you've had a good time when your panties are stuck to the ceiling fan... " Ooops. Brain to mouth filter just never _was_ gonna work properly.

"You... you... !" Cordy glared at him, appalled, and then slid down the wall to sit on the floor, howling with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh gods." Xander gasped for breath. "That's just... _so_ surreal."

"I hate you," Cordelia choked out, drawing in breath in great whooping gasps.

"Your underwear says otherwise, Mrs. Harris."

"Fuck my underwear," she gasped, finally managing to straighten up, wiping her eyes.

"I think I may have, at least once."

"Oh– !" She slid down the wall again. "No... more... can't breathe... "

"Ahem." Xander drew in a long, shuddering breath and wiped his own eyes. Struggled manfully and achieved control by the heroic dint of imagining Giles and Mrs. Summers on the police car during the Band Candy thing. Ewww. "Ok. I'm stopped. And you'll never know what it cost me."

"God. I'll _never_ live this down," Cordelia gasped, finally bringing her own laughter under control. "Disheveled, bitten, with an enormous hickey on my neck – Gunn will razz me for-_ever_." She eyed him balefully. "Bastard."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"You are not wrong." He tossed her bra back to her. "Be gentle with this. It's had a hard life."

The corner of her mouth curled up in a rueful grin, "Not as hard as those panties, obviously," she said.

"We will always remember their sacrifice," he intoned.

She aimed a finger at him, warningly. "Do. _Not_. Start. That. Again."

"I may have them bronzed," he said, then held his hands up, palms out in surrender as she looked lightning bolts at him.

Cordelia levered herself up, and stood again. "I really need a shower."

"Yeah... " Xander put out his hands in placatory apology as her head whipped around in a glare. "M-meaning I need one too," he stuttered out, hastily.

"Huh." Giving him the gimlet eye, she evidently decided to let it go.

"I have a shirt you can borrow," he said, looking over the ruins of her blouse, dangling from the other hand. "And a t-shirt."

"Thanks ever so," she said, far too sweetly. "_That'll_ help throw them off the scent."

"Sarcasm never helps," he said, as full of outraged dignity as he could manage.

Mister Gimlet Stare was back. "Since when?" Cordelia's outrage deflated, abruptly, like a punctured balloon. "Sigh. Thanks. Better than showing up looking like I starred in a castaway movie. That look is _so_ my grandmother."

Both of his eyebrows went up so abruptly he thought he'd sprained them. He sat up, gazing at her in intense curiosity.

"Rachel Westin?" She matched his raised eyebrows with both of her own, and raised him a smirk, "Queen of the B-movies in the sixties and seventies? 50,000 years B.C.?"

"Rachel _Westin_ is your grandmother?" Xander sat all the way up.

"Well," Cordelia shrugged. "Step grandmother. Grandaddy Chase's second wife."

"Wow."

She smiled, shaking her head. "You never knew that?"

"You never told me," he grinned.

"Wasn't important?" She shrugged, "No idea. Haven't seen her in years, just didn't cross my mind, I guess. But I'd thought sure you'd have noticed the 'Ballad of Josie Welles' poster in my bedroom."

"I did notice that thing," he said, nodding. "Just never asked."

"She was my inspiration for wanting to be an actress," Cordelia stated. "Heh. So much for that."

"Hey." She looked up at him, and was captured by that intense, dark chocolate gaze. "Their loss for not seeing what they had auditioning for them."

Her breath caught. She managed to get out a quiet, "Oh? And what's that?"

"Cordelia _Chase_," he said, shaking his head like he thought she was deficient for asking. "Too damn good for the silver screen."

"I... " Her head snapped up and her back straightened, "Damn straight."

That thousand watt smile came out and he basked in the intensity. "Let's go shower," Xander said, matching it with one of his own.

"Oh? And you think _you're_ invited?" Her gaze ran along his body as he stood up, sweeping a grand bow towards the bathroom. She gulped.

"Crap. We'll _never_ get out of here... "

* * *

"You are _never_ getting your room deposit back," Cordelia called out into the bathroom.

Finishing combing and brushing the tangles out of her hair, she set down the brush and pulled her skirt up over a pair of Xander's cinched in with a pair of safety pins boxers. Turning this way and that, she gave herself a critical once over in the mirror of that poor, abused dresser.

'Took one for the team, indeed,' she thought, snickering mentally.

"I'll write it off on my expense account," he called back.

'Huh?' her mind went. "Expense account? What?"

"Expense account? Here on company business for the convention?" He came out of the bathroom, buckling his belt and smoothing down his tie. "S&C Construction, Assistant Junior Vice President in Charge of Projects and Planning?"

"You're wha- " her voice went away as her mouth went suddenly dry.

'_Day-um_,' Still Quiet Voice said. '_He cleans up nice._'

Sure the fuck does. She'd seen him carrying an armload of clothing into the bathroom after their, err... shower session, but hadn't really inventoried the collection. Tan sports jacket, not Italian or named designer, but obviously tailored, brown and silver pin-striped tie, dark slacks with a crease, and a pair of nice loafers to go with a button down pale, cream colored shirt. Yum.

"Shamar and Corey Construction and Heavy Equipment? Got a promotion recently? I'm sure I mentioned that... " he trailed off, looking at her oddly. "Cordelia... ?"

She swallowed. "I'm sure you did. But it must've been last night." She shook her head to clear it. "Suit _and_ tie, wow."

"Sports jacket," he said, smirking. "And a clip on."

"It so is not!" She eyed him critically, "That's a four-in-hand."

"This old thing? I just threw it on." His eyes swept an appreciative look over her in return. "Not bad, Mrs. Harris."

She flushed, "Stop that! I am _not_ 'Mrs. Harris'."

Smirk. "Beg to differ."

Oooohhhh. She tossed her head, angrily. "Let's. Go." Before I kill you, she thought.

"As you wish," he made a flowing gesture and bent over the bed to close his travel bag. Glancing around the room, he smiled ruefully, ducking his head like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookies. "And I see what you mean. Poor room."

"C'mon," she picked up her purse and turned to the door as he slung his bag over one shoulder by the strap, and picked up his clothing bag and smaller case in each hand.

"Hey." She half turned with an inquisitive expression.

"Still one chamber loaded," Xander said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Ooooohhh," Cordelia growled, snapping her gaze away from him. Flushing slowly from the neck up, she yanked open the door. "Shut. Up."

"As you wish."

She could _feel_ the smirk at her back all the way to the elevator. Bastard.

* * *

"Oh, gods," Cordelia was saying. "We can never, _ever_ go back to Fitzgerald's Las Vegas again. Not and hold my head up, anyway."

"Hey, they agreed to hold my – our – room for us," Xander replied. "That was nice of them."

Cordelia stopped dead still, head down, fists clenching at her sides, before turning slowly to glare at him. "The _Bellboy_ tipped _you_!"

"Hundred bucks, yep," Xander nodded agreeably. "And he volunteered to get his friends in housekeeping to put the room back together for us on the Q.T."

"Oooohhhh... !" Cordelia turned away from him and began stalking down the street again. Stopping a few strides farther down, she stopped and whirled on him, finger out and jabbing at his face, mouth working for several moments before sounds that could actually be considered words came out. "We got a standing _ovation_ when we were crossing the lobby to the desk!"

"We did, didn't we?" Xander hastily peeled the grin off his face and backed away, hands out, palms up and outwards as the finger slowly curled to clench with the others into a fist.

"Grrrfff!" Whirling, Cordelia resumed stalking down the sidewalk. "I. have. _never_. been. so... so _humiliated_ in my life!" She whirled on him again, "Complete strangers were coming up and trying to stuff dollar bills into my waistband!"

"Huh." Xander looked thoughtful. "I got tens and twenties... "

"Ooooohhh!" For a brief moment, Xander thought Cordelia might have a coronary. Or a stroke. There was a little blood vessel pulsating in one of her temples.

"And I'm thinking that's not helping any," he said hastily.

"I. Hate. You." Cordelia snarled, snapping around and continuing her stalk. "Let's just go find Angel and get this over with."

"Yes, dear." Her back stiffened, but she didn't turn around again.

* * *

"Well, I'm confused." Gunn said, looking around them. "Figured for sure she'd have popped up by now."

"She may be lying dead or injured by one of these roadsides," Groo stated darkly, his brows lowering.

"Pretty sure someone would have noticed, Groo," Fred said, patting his arm comfortingly. "This isn't Pylea – we have ambulances and 9-1-1 here."

"And calling all of the jails, morgues, and hospitals would have turned up _something_ by now," Gunn added.

"Vampires," Groo said, grimly. "Apologies, but it must be said," he added with a glance to Angel.

Angel waved it off, "You're not wrong. But Cordelia can handle a vamp by now. And Lorne didn't get anything like that when we sang about it."

Lorne shrugged, strolling along beside them. "Just that nothing drastic or fatal happened to her. And that we're on the path to finding her when it's time."

"Whatever _that_ means," Gunn said. "Christmas time? Easter time? Daylight Savings Time?"

"Hey, Tall Dark and Streetwise," Lorne shrugged again, "I'm just the conduit. I don't write the telegrams."

It had just recently turned dark enough for Angel to leave the Venetian's hotel suites, where they'd spent most of the day sleeping after a long, exhausting search following the long, exhausting battle with Jenoff and his goons. Well, some of them had – Lorne didn't think Angel had slept at all. Just paced restlessly.

Currently, they were taking a short break near the fountains plaza at the Bellagio, around two hours past night fall, grousing and brainstorming for idea of where to look next. Mostly grousing. Two hours of wandering and searching the Strip hadn't covered a massive amount of ground, comparatively, but it was enough to make the feet hurt and tempers short.

"Hey!" Gunn said, suddenly, turning to look at Angel with a skeptical expression. "How come you can afford suites at the Venetian, but our paychecks are always late?"

"They're not _always_ late," Angel began, sounding pained. He cut that off as the skeptical look threatened to become a glare. He shrugged, "Fine. I called David and asked him if he knew anyone here, or if anyone owed him any favors," he said.

"David Nabbitt is putting us up at the Venetian?" Gunn looked impressed, almost in spite of himself. "The billionaire?"

Angel shrugged. "They're part of his company's corporate suites."

"Guys! This isn't finding us Cordelia," Fred said, breaking in on the discussion.

"Hey, if Angel had his cell, she coulda _called_ us by now."

"Agreed," Groo said, nodding.

"Hey! Don't start." Angel spread his hands, "I for_got_ it, ok? Just drop it already."

"Oh, for... " Fred shook her head. "Look, the important thing is what we do now, right?"

"Hey, we're supposed to be detectives," Gunn said, looking at Angel "Can't you detect for her?"

"I'm serious, Gunn," Angel said. "Don't start."

"We could split up so we can cover more area," Groo said.

"But we'd have no way to check in if any of us found them."

"Ok," Gunn said, "Hey – why don't we hit a Target or Wally World and just buy a bunch of those pay-by-the-minute disposable phones and either call her or _then_ spread out to look? So we can keep in contact."

"Yeah," Angel nodded. "Let's split up – we can do more damage that way."

"Well, beats what we _are_ doing." Gunn glowered. "So we call her cell."

"Her cell number is on my phone – back at the Hyperion."

"Don't look at me," Lorne said, "I only have her apartment number in mine."

"Oh, for... " Fred shook her head again, her eyes rolling. Turning to Lorne, she said, "Never gonna find her this way. Let's give it one more try?"

"Cupcake... we've _already_ tried several times," Lorne began, breaking off at her glare. Angel looked pained, and she included him in the glare-fest. "Sigh. Fine. Hit it, Angel-cakes."

Sighing heavily, Angel started in on a verse of 'Piano Man', breaking off with a glare as Gunn made to stick his fingers in his ears, and starting again.

"Wow." Lorne said, staring. "That almost never happens."

"You got something from the Powers just off of _that_?" Angel said, startled. "A vision? Or a glimpse?"

"No. More like serendipity," Lorne said, smirking. "Or you could call it a vision, I guess." He pointed.

They followed his aiming finger to a spot across the hotel plaza to where a couple were stalking along, gesticulating angrily at each other. One of them looked oddly familiar...

"My Princess?" Groo said, sounding startled, then joyous. "But... who is that with her?" Narrowing his eyes, Groo glowered across the distance.

"Umm... " Angel fought an impulse to close his eyes tightly and pound his head against the nearest hard surface. Then he quit fighting it.

He sighed heavily. "Oh, crap. Of all of the cities in all of the world that _he_ could end up in... "

* * *

It was about two hours past sundown, and they were wandering aimlessly along the plaza at the Bellagio, enjoying the lake and the fountain show. Stopping periodically to call around the various hotels hadn't netted much more than that an 'Angel and company' had stayed overnight at the Venetian, but none of the gang was there by the time he and Cordy had arrived shortly after sundown.

" ... I can't _believe_ you guys haven't staked Spike yet. Jeeze," Cordelia was saying. They'd long since wandered off of marriage related arguments and onto other ones. Never a lack of topics; never boring. She shook her head, throwing her hands up angrily, "Willow, ok – she's never had her head completely screwed on straight about vampires, but... "

"I wanted to," Xander said. "Heh – so did Buffy, at first. But he had info we needed, and then Buffy got on a kick about how it just wasn't right to kill helpless beings – "

"Helpless!" Cordelia snorted.

"Yeah," Xander tossed a grin at her. "Ok, try 'can't bite or personally harm humans'. I personally put it off to after effects of Willow's 'Will Be Done' spell where Buffy got engaged to him – "

Cordelia laughed, that toothpaste commercial grin flashing at him. "Oh, yeah – never saw _that_ coming! Not."

"Well," Xander shrugged easily. "Buffy, tame vampires, gotta admit it's a gimme."

"Hey! Angel's not tame! He's... " She trailed off, with a vague gesture.

"Neutered?"

"Hah! No. Try again, weenie." She frowned, her nose scrunching up in that way that'd always fascinated him. "Leashed – no – _restrained_. That's it."

"That's a good word for it," Xander allowed. "Gotta say, after Spike, I almost miss Deadboy."

"Hah. Really surprised you didn't stake him after you found him and Anya together," Cordelia said, snickering.

He was surprised to find the memory didn't sting quite as much as it had immediately afterward. He shrugged. "_Still_ not sure why I didn't. Beat hell out of him, but," he rolled his eyes, "Had the stake in my hand, then Anya and Buffy showed up and Ahn and I started arguing. The moment was lost."

Cordelia snorted, "Ok," she said, "_Not_ that you had a say in it by then – you _did_ leave her at the altar, and broken up is broken up – but I can understand the impulse. And the reaction."

"Always thought you'd make a truly _great _vengeance demon, Cordy," Xander said, nodding thoughtfully.

"Hey!" He dodged a swat aimed at the back of his head, and stuck his tongue out.

Sticking hers out back at him, she frowned suddenly and whipped her head to her right, eyes searching. "What was that?"

Following her gaze, he spotted a group of people heading towards them across the expanse of plaza, one of them waving and shouting. "Hey – speaking of Deadboy, isn't that... ?"

"Oh, gods," Cordelia said, suddenly and frantically trying to put herself into better order. "Not a _word_ about Spike and Buffy," she said, grabbing him around the bicep. "And don't call him 'Deadboy'."

"Ow." Rolling his eyes, Xander pulled his arm out of her grasp. Giving her a critical once over as they slowly started walking towards the other group, he said, "You look _fine_, Cordy."

She did, too. Only Cordelia Chase could make a light blue man's dress shirt worn open and tied at the bottom over one of his dark blue Mountain tees tucked into a just-above-knee-length black leather skirt and high heels look like a million dollars.

Even _with_ the hickey.

"I _so_ do not," she said. "Oh, gods."

"Do too. Deep breath. Relax."

"Easy for _you_ to say."

He hooked her arm through his, "C'mon. Let's go meet your family."

They drew up to a halt, waiting as the others closed on them, Angel in the lead.

The other group came up slightly spread out, in a disheveled mob, like a skirmish line. Xander recognized Angel, of course. And the tall black guy, with the shaven head; judging from Cordy's description and anecdotes, that just had to be Gunn. There was a slender, willowy, medium height girl with long brown hair and huge eyes that was probably the 'Fred' that Cordy'd mentioned, hanging onto Gunn's arm like it was her hope of salvation. The tall, skinny green-skinned red-eyed demon in the trench-coat and fedora and the expensive suit he wasn't sure about: he tentatively labeled him 'Lorne' and let it go.

The last one, lagging a bit behind the rest, he just had to grin at. Tall, massive, dark haired, blue eyed, and wearing a long black leather coat over black jeans and a white shirt – that just _had_ to be the Groo-some-lug, looking like a cut-rate Angel in the large economy size package. All glowery and slightly puzzled looking like Angel trying to figure out a joke. He wondered if Cordy had any idea what that said about her psyche?

_'This is gonna be __fun__,' _said Still, Small Voice.

Now now. We don't wanna have more fun than we can survive.

_'Spoil sport.'_

Angel blew up to them like a ship at full sail, long coat doing the swirly thing behind him as he crested to a sudden stop a few paces away as he took in the two of them. The rest straggled to a halt slightly behind him in a ragged array. He noticed Gunn frown slightly as he took in Cordy's male-shirt dominated outfit, scrapes, 'just-fell-outta-bed' 'do, and the, err, hickey, and break out into a wide grin. So did willowy-girl.

"Cordy! Where have you _been_ all night?" Angel didn't quite bellow. It was more of a strangled quiet shout. His eyes didn't seem to quite know where to settle, but they kept flickering from Cordy to the hickey to Xander, and his brow kept getting more and more furrowed...

Cordelia gulped, opened her mouth, and kinda shrank in on herself. Her mouth closed without any sound coming out, and Xander scowled to himself, inwardly.

Xander let a slow, broad grin spread across his mouth and stepped over and past Cordelia, not coincidentally stepping between her and Angel. His arms spread open wide as if for a hug as he got closer, he cheerfully exclaimed, "Deadboy!"

"Don't call me that," Angel growled out, almost reflexively. He stepped back hastily and stopped Xander in his tracks with a look, followed by an expression that could curdle milk and cause spontaneous abortions.

"_Wha_t in the _hell_ are you _doing _here, Harris?" Angel demanded, his voice rising towards the end.

Out of the corner of his eye, Xander saw Gunn mouth 'Deadboy?' silently with a raised eyebrow, his grin broadening.

Taking another step, Xander let his arms go up and down hopefully a couple of times, before turning the movement into a shrug and sticking his hands in his pockets. He felt Cordy move up behind him.

"Uh... working? Convention, job related?" Xander frowned, sticking his lower lip out slightly, "What. No hug?"

With a sigh like air going out of a bellows, Angel squeezed his eyes shut, deflated for a moment, opened them, and apparently decided to ignore Xander to concentrate on Cordelia.

_'Good __luck__, Buddy,' _said Still Small Voice. _'That's gonna be like trying to ignore jock itch.'_

Hey. Couldja come up with a better metaphor? Jeeze.

_'I calls 'em like I sees 'em.'_

As Angel moved slightly to one side to glare at Cordelia, Xander removed his hands from his pockets, folded one arm across his chest, rested the other elbow on its wrist and took his chin in his hand, glowering back. He stepped easily to the side, blocking Angel again as the vampire stepped forward.

Angel shifted to the right, and he repeated the maneuver, until Cordelia smacked him in the shoulder and shoved him to one side.

"Move it, Doofus." Stepping up beside him, she straightened and plastered her best thousand watt Pepsodent commercial smile on and aimed it at Angel like a spotlight. "Uh, hi, Angel."

"Uh, hi?" Angel's eyes bugged out slightly. "_'Hi Angel'_? We were practically out of our minds with worry when you disappeared and all you can say is 'hi Angel'?."

"Worried to death, maybe?" Xander said, curiously. Cordelia shot him a quelling look from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, Barbie," Gunn said, stepping forward. "Just where _was_ that ladies room, in Reno? And, didja fall in?"

"Hey, Gunn," Cordelia shifted the smile to him, and it became a lot more genuine. "Not all soul less and evil?"

"No thanks to you," Gunn said, his grin becoming a smirk. Cordy winced. "But yeah – all soul having and shit. There was poker and demon slaying, even."

"Angel won Gunn's soul back in a poker game," Fred put in. Her eyes kept flickering between Cordelia and Xander and a slight crease was growing between her eyes. "It was pretty nifty."

She smiled at Xander, a bit shyly, almost peeking out from near Gunn, and waggled her fingers at him. He winked and she looked as if she wanted to duck back behind the black guy.

"I'm so very sorry, Gunn." Cordelia said. "I got, uh... distracted."

"Hey, no big thang. It's all good now," Gunn's eyes went to the hickey again, and he smirked wider. So did Angel's. Cordelia slowly turned crimson from the neckline up. "Wait, Harris – _Sunnydale_ Xander Harris? The former ex?" He started laughing, "Dawg!"

"Yeah," Xander let his hand drop from his chin to fold with the other arm. "I be the distraction."

"So I see," Gunn said slowly, nodding. He looked to Xander, "Man. Dunno what to say. Congratulations?"

"Princess?" Groo ventured, just right about the time that Fred's eyes went anime and she let out an ear piercing squeal.

"Rings? You got _married_?!" Somewhere nearby, those fighters took off from Nellis, searching for incoming. She rushed forward from behind Gunn to swarm over Cordelia, still shrieking.

Cordelia's blush went all the way to tomato and she swayed, her eyes squeezing tightly shut.

Angel's jaw dropped, and he went into stuttering incoherence, a first in Xander's experience. Lorne's jaw dropped, also, but his eyes lit up merrily.

The Groosalug's eyes widened, and all the expression fell from his face, as a look of dawning incredulity grew in his eyes. He looked from Cordelia to Xander and back again, a wounded look in his gaze. "My Princess?" he said, almost plaintively.

Cordy opened her eyes and threw him an anguished look, then squeezed them tightly shut again, dropping her head.

Xander decided to defuse things, if that was even _remotely_ possible at this point, or at least divert them from Cordy, and threw himself on the grenade.

Stepping forward and past Gunn and the open mouthed Angel, he pasted a wide grin on his mug, and said, "You must be Groo. Howya doin'?" He stuck his hand out, "Pleezta meetcha. I'm _Mr._ Cordelia Chase."

Behind him, he heard suffused choking sounds coming from Gunn, and squeals from Fred. And a plaintive "You're _married_... to, to _him_?" from Angel.


	5. Til Death or Karaoke Do We Part

**Chapter Four: Til Death or Karaoke Do We Part...**

* * *

"_If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave man, I guess I'm a coward."_ ― Jack Handey

* * *

Thunderclouds slowly gathered in the big guy's expression and a slow frown began to crease the massive brow. He gazed down at Xander as though at a peculiar form of insect he was contemplating squashing, and took a slow step back, pointedly ignoring the outstretched hand.

_'Note to self. Not such a good idea to make a point of baiting guys with biceps bigger than Angel's forehead,' _Still, Small Voice remarked, helpfully.

Gee, thanks for the update. And there _isn't_ anything bigger than Angel's forehead. Mount Rushmore is smaller.

Behind them, Xander could hear a spirited discussion growing between Cordelia and Angel, with interjections from the peanut gallery in the form of Gunn and Fred.

"I was not aware that my Princess was betrothed," Groo said, finally, still glowering at Xander. "Much less wed."

"It happened kinda all of a sudden," Xander said, shrugging. "Well, unless you count from the second grade... "

"I see - "

In the background, Cordelia broke off with an outraged, "Oooohhh! Men!" and a huff of breath and he heard the clack of her heels moving rapidly towards them.

She pulled to a sudden stop beside Xander, all the breath suddenly leaving her in a sigh. "Groo..."

Groosalug bowed slightly from the shoulders to her, and smiled slightly, his eyes lighting up a bit, even despite the body blow he'd just taken. Xander suddenly felt for him, just a little. He knew all about sudden body blows to the emotional guts.

"My Princess," Groo said, formally. "I was just speaking with your... husband."

"I- it- it's, uh, not what you think," Cordelia began. Xander put a hand on her shoulder for support and she shook it off. Never one for leaning on anyone, his Cordy. "I can explain," she began...

Groo looked over to Xander and gave him a slow, dismissive once over. Xander's sympathetic feeling for him evaporated in that instant. Groo looked back to Cordelia and his brows went up as he folded his massive arms across his chest. His gaze went skeptical.

Ok, all sympathies definitely gone now. _No one_ looked at his Cordy like that.

It never even crossed the frontiers of his mind that she hadn't been 'his' Cordy for a long, _long_ time...

Screw _that_. She'd _been_ his Cordy since kindergarten. She would _be_ his Cordy until the end of time. Period. End statement.

And _nobody_ looked at his Cordy in that tone of voice.

"Yes... ?"

"I, uh, it's not what it looks like," Cordelia started, then paused, "Well, except for the part where it kinda _is_, but..." She looked up, as if for Divine Intervention, or maybe a lightning bolt. "Uh... there was lots of alcohol. And, uh... UST and stuff."

A frown deepened there again upon the lug's massive brow. "Were you taken advantage of, then, in a moment of drunken weakness?"

"Huh? Oh, _hell_ no," Cordelia said. "Well, yeah, but then again, no." She looked to Xander for help, then squared her shoulders and plowed on, "There was advantage taking, yeah, but it was, _like_, mutual taking."

"_Lots_ of taking," Xander murmured. Her elbow nailed him in the gut and he went 'oof!' quietly.

"Hrmm." Groo frowned again, slowly. "So, must I now challenge this man to the death for your affections?"

Gulp. Xander eyed the circumference of the man's arms again, comparing them to his waist size. _'Holy crap. Dive, dive, dive... '_ Still Small said.

The stake in the back of his belt, and the huge Moeller Fighting Bowie in the shoulder rig under his left arm suddenly felt awfully tiny... he needed a bigger weapon for this. Hell, he needed a freaking _elephant_ gun for this.

"Huh? No!" Cordelia exclaimed. "Well... as tempting as that is... "

"Hey!" Her elbow nailed him in the stomach again, right below the floating ribs, and he stifled.

She sighed, glaring at Xander from the corner of her eyes. "We don't do that here, so, _no_ with the challenging."

Groo nodded. "I must take my leave, then," he said. "Unless you wish to challenge me for the honor of the Princess?" The big guy sounded almost way too hopeful about that possibility.

"Naw," Xander did his level best to load his tone of voice with sad reluctance. "We don't do that here." He glanced to the side, "Unless the fair Cordelia insists on it... ?" he matched the big guy formal tone for formal tone.

"Uh, no." She gave Xander a wide, insincere smile, "But it was sweet of you to ask." The elbow tagged him again.

"Then..." Bowing slightly from the neck again, he said, "Until we meet again, my Princess." He turned on his heel and began to walk away.

"Groo, wait!" Cordelia began.

Xander went two falls out of three with his baser instincts and lost. He sighed, his better nature getting away from him, put a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her forward. "_Go after him_," he whispered.

Cordelia took a step forward, and Groo half turned, "No, Princess. I must be alone to think on these things. Fare thee well."

She took another step, then halted when Groo's back stiffened but he kept striding away. She turned away, and Xander caught her up in his arms.

"All _your_ fault, dammit," she said, burying her head in his chest.

"I know," he said, stroking her back.

"Dammit." She raised her head and let it fall forward into his chest with a thud. It must have felt good, because she did it again. "Just dammit all to hell."

"I know," he murmured again.

* * *

After a few moments, she raised her head and pulled away from him. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of one hand.

Wordlessly, he handed her the hanky from his inside pocket. She smiled slightly, wiped her eyes and face, and delicately blew her nose into it and handed it back.

"Eww," he said.

"Well, what'd you _expect_ me to do with it, jerk," she said. Her eyes thanked him for the semblance of normal byplay.

"No clue," he said, folding and stuffing it back into his pocket. "C'mon. Your public awaits."

"Oh gods... "

"Can't avoid 'em forever. May as well get it over with," Xander shrugged.

They ambled back to the waiting cluster of Angel Investigations people, sans Groo. After the second step, he took her hand and she didn't jerk hers away. She straightened her back and held her head high.

Coming to a stop before the group, Xander looked them over surreptitiously. Angel stood with his arms folded over his chest, looking petulant. Pouting and brooding at the same time. Fred was still almost vibrating in place with a wide ear-to-ear smile, and Gunn was doing his level best to hide a grin. Lorne just shook his head, and smiled slightly, but turned away from Angel.

Xander grinned and stepped to the black guy. "Hey, you must be Gunn." He gave him a nod, "Xander Harris."

"So I gather," he replied in a dry tone. Gunn stuck out his fist and Xander bumped it with his, rapping it on the back with his other one. "Man!" Gunn shook his head, wonderingly.

Fred grinned at him, "I thought you might have been Bogart, because of the 'of all the places in all the world comment', but hey – he's dead. Still, Vegas."

Xander's eyebrows waggled, and his smile broadened. "Well, schweetheart, in our circles? Dead's not really a barrier, kiddo." Fred giggled.

"Hey!" Xander turned to Angel, an eyebrow going up at his near shout. "You got Cordelia drunk and _married_ her?" Angel sounded incredulous.

"Hey! Find a new refrain," Xander said, straightening indignantly at Angels tone. "Cordy and I've already done that one to un-death."

"Now, look you – " Angel stepped forward, almost growling.

"Yeah?" Xander took a step also, jutting out his chin.

There was a loud, sharp whistle. Cordelia took her fingers out of her mouth and stepped between them, "Hey! Guys, guys – you're both pretty. Now knock it the hell off."

Angel jerked back like an offended cat. His brows – brow – went up, and he looked at her incredulously. "You wandered off and bumped... heads with this... _Xander_ and got drunk and got married. And left us all wondering what the _hell_ happened while we had to save Gunn by ourselves."

"Gunn doesn't look all that pissed off," Xander noted. "What's _your_ problem, Room Temperature Man?"

"Oh, I'll _tell _you what my problem is, you... " Angel ground out, attempting to step – unsuccessfully – around Cordelia.

Xander caught a whiff of something downright... _possessive_ in Angel's tone, and searched the taller being's eyes. A grin slid slowly across his lips.

"You're jealous," he said, wonderingly.

Angel did the affronted cat thing again. "No! I- I- " he began. He shook his head and drew himself up to his full height, looking like Fluffy the Terrible on a bad hair gel day. "I. Am. Not."

Since Angel's full height was only four inches taller than Xander, he wasn't nearly impressed as much after Groo the Towering. "You are!"

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

"That's ridiculous," Angel said, glaring at him.

"You are," Xander said, his grin threatening to become a smirk. "I got the girl, for once, and you're _jealous_!"

Angel tried to step forward, only to be intercepted again. "Get out of my way, Cordy," he growled. "I'm going to pop his head off like a zit."

"Oh, you _so_ are not," Cordelia said, drawing herself up and squaring off to him. "Jeeze. Grow the hell up, both of you." She glared at Xander out of the corner of her eye. "And there was _no_ getting."

"Beg to differ, Mrs. Harris." (beat) "Just ask the standing ovation committee."

Angel growled again and started around the other side. Lorne put a hand on his shoulder, "Now now. Hold on, Sugar Buns."

'Sugar Buns?' Xander mouthed silently. His smirk grew. '_Sugar Buns_?' Xander's eyes were dancing merrily. Cordelia's corner-of-the-eye glare took on a distinct note of alarm.

"_Sugar_ Buns?" he said aloud. "Is there anything you need to tell the rest of the class? Not that there's anything _wrong_ with that, you understand... " Gunn made a strangled noise off to one side, followed by a sharp thump and a grunt.

Cordelia's elbow nailed him under the short ribs again, other side this time. "Oof!"

Angel's eyes widened. "Oh, you did _not_ just say that. I am _not_ gay!"

Xander nodded, seriously. "It's ok. Coming out's not easy, I'm told."

"I'm not!"

"Uh huh."

Cordelia shot him a quelling look, but he caught the elbow in his palm before impact. He stuck his tongue out at her and she rolled her eyes with a huff. She covered his mouth with her other hand as he started to speak again.

"Oh please." Lorne gave him a long suffering look, "Even if I was so inclined, which, hey – Angel-kins is a hottie, but _not_ my type – " Angel switched the glare to him, "Pylean biology doesn't work that way."

Cordelia yelped and yanked her hand away. "Eww," she said. "You licked my palm!"

Xander grinned at her, folding his arms across his chest.

"Why does _everyone_ always think I'm gay?" Angel asked, looking plaintively towards Gunn, who shrugged. "I'm not!"

There was another ear splitting whistle, and Cordelia shoved them both apart.

Gunn said, "Ouch. Day-um, Barbie," wiggling a finger in one ear. She glared at him.

"Ok. Listen up, guys." Cordelia shook her head. She glared at Angel. "I'm _sorry _I missed the soul saving party. I've already apologized to Gunn. But there wasn't much I could probably have added, unless a chance to vision someone to death came up. And for the record, I'd have _called_ you guys if _someone_ had brought their cell along."

She switched her glare to Fred, "Yes. Xander and I are married. So sorry you didn't get an invite and a bridesmaid's dress."

Back to Angel, "Yes we got drunk. We had sex. _Lots_ of it, and it was _fantastic_."

And finally to Xander, "And we are NOT staying married. We're getting an annulment as soon as possible."

Cordelia shared out the glare amongst the group, "The only one who has a _right_ to be upset about the marriage thing is Groo, and well...

"And finally," she blew hair out of her eyes with a huff, turning back to Angel, "You _employ_ me. You do not _own_ me. If I feel a sudden need to go off and get married, well, _deal_. Got that?"

Gunn looked at her, awed.

"Fine." Angel glared at her for a long minute, then turned on his heel away from them. "Let's get going – we have a long drive before daylight, and I don't want to have to ride in the trunk."

Cordelia took a long step after him, reflexively, then stopped, her hand going to her mouth. "Crap."

Angel half turned back, brows raised.

"I can't," she said, slumping. "I have to stay here so we can see the... people... tomorrow and get annulled."

"Fine," Angel said, again. "C'mon everyone. Else."

"We're staying at Fitzgerald's Casino & Hotel, by Freemont," Xander tossed out, helpfully. "Room 23006." He shrugged at everyone's looks. "In case you need to find Cordy or something."

"Fine."

"Whoa, we _so_ are _not!_" Cordelia practically shrieked. Everyone stared at her and she slowly turned red from somewhere beneath the t-shirt collar upwards.

She cleared her throat and glared back. "I am so _never_ setting foot in that hotel again."

Xander shrugged, "Ok. We'll call and let you guys know where we moved to."

"Fine." Angel bit out the word like it hurt him.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on there Lugosi." Lorne said, holding up his hands. "Not just yet."

"_What_?" Angel asked, sounding exasperated. His voice lowered, "What _now_, I mean."

"I saw a little bar with a karaoke setup in the Bellagio as we were passing through," Lorne explained. "I want to take these two love birds and get a quick ditty out of them so I can see the threads on this unexpected blessed event."

"Karaoke?" Xander looked at Cordelia, who just looked pained. And resigned.

Angel's eyes widened. "You can't possibly think that the Powers or _destiny_ had anything to do with this?"

"I thought it was tequila and depth charges," Xander offered. Cordelia elbowed him, but her heart clearly wasn't in it.

"Who knows, cupcake," Lorne said, shrugging. "But there's only one way to be sure."

"Fine," Angel said, turning on his heel again.

"Hey – where you going?" Gunn asked.

"To have them bring the cars around so we can get the hell out of here when Lorne's done."

* * *

Cordelia Chase was absolutely miserable inside. Not for the first time in her life, of course:

There'd been long, long ago when she'd found out that her mom had gone away while at the hospital and was never coming back. But she barely remembered that any more, or how it'd felt...

There'd been the time long ago when she'd woken up on Christmas morning to find that Daddy had _not_ put the pony under the tree that she'd been leaving (very unsubtle) hints around about for only most of a year. Nor in the backyard.

But she'd gotten her Palomino Morgan a couple of years later, so that'd had the edge taken off a bit.

There'd been kindergarten when she'd been arguing with Willow Rosenberg over the yellow crayon and it'd snapped off in her hand and Willow had burst into accusing tears. She hadn't meant to...

But the new kid had come over and given Willow a hug and handed them _his_ crayons, and that'd taken the edge off a bit.

There'd been near the end of second grade when Mother (Daddy's Third, but no one else knew that) had decided that a Chase needed to cultivate only the _right_ friends and playmates (read wealthy for _right_) and she'd had to see the confused and hurt anger and disbelief in the eyes and faces of Willow, Xander, and Jesse when she drove them off with cutting words and sneers and went to play with Harmony and Aphrodesia Kingston instead.

Not much had taken the edge off of that one, especially when Xander had risen to the occasion and started turning his own cutting edge of humor and sarcasm back on her.

There'd been the eighth grade when she'd not even made runner up for Junior Miss California, after not doing so for Avocado Queen earlier that year, and Mother had yanked her out of the pageant circuit completely – only concerned about how Cordelia had disappointed and embarrassed _her_.

There'd been Junior year when they'd rushed to the rescue and found Willow and _her_ boyfriend mining each other's tonsils in that abandoned factory, and she'd woken up in the hospital after being impaled by that chunk of rusty re-bar from falling through those stairs.

That had hurt.

But Xander had taken a bit of the edge off of _that_ when he'd paid for her (expensive) prom dress with money she knew he didn't really have out of his road trip fund...

There'd been the devastation when her parents had lost all of their money to the IRS for back taxes, and she'd had to watch her horse and dog and most of her belongings sold off at auction.

Then there'd been the part where she'd been living in a roach infested apartment in L.A. and she'd been so broke and desperate that she'd worked herself up to actually sleep with a director or producer to get a part – and paying work.

It'd been almost a relief when Russell Winters had turned out to be a vampire who's only interest was in eating her. And _not_ in the good way...

Angel and Doyle had rescued her from that one and taken a bit of the edge off.

And there'd been feeling miserable for someone else, like when Doyle died sacrificing himself for those half-breed demons to defeat the Scourge. Or biting her lip not knowing how to help Wesley after Faith nearly sliced him to ribbons in her little torture her former Watcher session.

And then there'd been finding out that the visions that the Powers had given her through Doyle were _killing _her and that she had brain damage. And that _only_ accepting an offer to become infused with demon essence could prevent her from dying and heal the damage.

Nothing much had taken the edge off of _that_ one, yet.

And _then_ there was the past twenty-four hours or so, starting with waking up to find that she was _married_ to her (cheating bastard) of an ex, Xander Harris, and culminating with Angel being absolutely pissy and watching her hunky Pylean prince just shake his head and walk off, looking all stern and nobly wounded. And knowing that she'd let her best (only) friends down, even if Gunn had been amused and amazingly understanding, all things considered.

Except Xander kept doing his level best to step in the way and draw all of the resulting ire onto himself.

She _could_ really work up a _serious_ hate for that man.

Really. She could. Any minute now.

_'Just as soon as you figure why watching Groo turn his back and walk away –_ _without __even_ _giving you a fare-thee-well kiss –_ _didn't hurt nearly as much as losing Xander to Willow way back when, huh?'_

Oh, shut up. Still, Quiet Voice could seriously be a _royal_ pain in the ass some days.

_'Snicker.'_

And said object-of-hatred was currently walking along side of her with her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, amiably listening to Fred chattering away with Gunn and Lorne, and periodically giving her sidelong looks of concern from those chocolate eyes...

And, of _course_, she couldn't _quite_ seem to work up enough outrage to yank her hand away from his arm.

"I saw what you were doing back there, you know," came out of her mouth without conscious thought. Softly, so as not to carry to the others.

"Hrmm?" Xander's eyes flicked over to her glinting with curiosity.

"Stepping between me and Angel, heading off Groo when Fred blurted things out, practically offering to get pounded on, pissing Angel off so he kept focusing on you."

Xander smirked, and said, "You say that like me pissing off Angel is a conscious thing instead of just the course of natural events."

"Was this time," Cordelia said.

Shrugging, Xander looked back over to Lorne and the others.

"I really _can_ take care of my own problems with my friends, dammit."

"Yup." Xander nodded with a serious expression, for once. "But I caused the problems."

"Not sure that helped any," she remarked.

"Not sure much could," he said. Shrugged. "Sorry."

"No you're not. Not really."

"You are not wrong." The corner of his mouth towards her curled up in an old and familiar half grin. He shrugged, "It's what you do in a herd."

She gave an indelicate snort as Xander called out to Lorne, "So. Demon, huh? What's the deal with the karaoke and all?"

"Oh! Lorne reads people's destinies when they sing for him," Fred said.

"Heh. Don't much believe in destiny."

Cordelia snorted again. "_That's_ an understatement." Xander grinned down at her.

"Neither do I, sugar-plum," Lorne replied, nodding emphatically. "Not in the way you probably mean. Look at it more as... spotting the signposts on the highway of people's lives and pointing them out to the person."

"There's a signpost up ahead," Gunn intoned. "Next stop – "

"Where I've been living most of my life, lately," Xander said. "The Twilight Zone."

"'Zactly. You and me both, bro," Gunn put out his fist and bumped Xander's.

"So, what kind of demon feeds on singing?" Xander headed back to the original conversation.

"An anagogic one."

"Wha – huh? You don't look like a cartoon character."

"No no, pumpkin. Not anthropomorphic, Anagogic." Lorne grinned, shaking his head. "I see auras and get glimpses and impressions of people's lives and whether they're on the right paths. Sometimes images – minor visions really."

"Sort of an empathic thing?" Lorne shrugged, and Xander said, "Right path? So, how is that not destiny?"

Shrugging again, Lorne said, "Look at it like a clover leaf, then, not like Prophecy, capital Pee or Fate, Big 'F'. You're on a road through time and life, and there's curves and forks and exit and entrance ramps. And branches onto different roads."

"And some roads are better than others? More scenic," Xander said. "Fewer potholes."

"You got it, Lochinvar," Lorne said, nodding.

"Hey – I read lots of science fiction and fantasy," he said, nodding. "And comics. Comics are full of alternate realities and branching time-lines."

"Right," Lorne said. "And like the comics, when a decision point comes up or a major event or choice, there's a branch in the road. One fork might come up roses – "

"And the other, the Twilight Zone."

"You bet."

"But – karaoke?" Xander looked amused. Or maybe bemused: Cordelia was never sure about the difference between the two.

"Hey – I see better when people sing," Lorne shrugged easily. "It's a music thing."

"And _you've_ done this?" Xander looked down at Cordelia.

"Sure. A number of times," she said.

"And Lorne survived it?"

"Oh, shut up." She swatted him, and he grinned.


	6. Thin Ice and Heavy Vibes

**Chapter Five: Thin Ice and Heavy Vibes, Oh My.**

* * *

"_Whoa, I'm your girlfriend now?"_

_"We've tried to kill each other, fought ghouls, and kissed a lot. I'm pretty sure we're married in some cultures."_ ― Archer to Rachel Hawkins _(Spell Bound)_

* * *

"There's a little tucked-in-a-corner club right over this way, boys and girls," Lorne said as they headed into the Venetian. Xander nodded.

"Why are you nodding, Goof Boy?" Cordelia demanded, looking up at him suspiciously.

"Hey – saw it the other day; think I know which one he means," Xander said. "The big Contractor's show and exposition is at the Sands Convention Center here in this complex."

Gunn nodded. "Hey – the demon casino where Jenoff used to do his soul stealing thing was in the sub-basements of the Palazzo right across there."

"Huh. Figures," Xander shook his head. "That's where I bumped into Cordelia last night – as in 'literally bumped into'."

"Don't remind me," she said. "Knocked me on my ass then picked me up and said, 'I'm so sorry, can I have you up here?'"

"Obviously, you said 'yes'," Gunn said.

"Repeatedly," Xander remarked.

Cordelia yanked her hand out his arm and whopped him on the shoulder.

"And then I kissed her brainless while she was chewing me out," Xander said. "Which, now that I think on it: not so much of a reach."

He ducked out of the way of the next blow, his eyes dancing.

"And then the two of you wandered off and got married?" Fred snickered, then sighed, "Oh, that's so romantic."

"Romantic? Are you out of your _mind_?" Cordelia said, her eyes widening. "Somehow, lots and _lots_ of alcohol got involved. That's the _only_ way I'd have _ever_ married this- this- Jerkoid!"

"Uh huh," Fred said, seriously. "Tequila conquers again." She noticed everyone looking at her and shrugged, "Hey, I'm a Texan. I know all about Tequila and bad decisions."

"Hey!" Xander shot her a wounded look. "I resemble that remark."

"Wait," Cordelia stopped a moment, frowning. "If you've been at the Sands, then why are you staying at the Fitzgerald instead of the Palazzo?" The frown deepened, "_Not_ that I would have _wanted_ to have public sex all over the Palazzo instead... "

She broke off, flushing as she noticed that everyone had stopped and was staring at her. "Err. I thought that out loud, didn't I."

"In THX, Sweetie," Lorne said.

"Man. _I'm_ thinking we shoulda gone out partying with _you_ guys last night instead," Gunn remarked as they set off again.

"Oh, shut up." Cordelia slugged _him_ on the arm this time and he danced away, laughing.

"Oh look, dinner and a show," Xander said, smirking. He held his hands up in surrender as Cordelia glared at him, "Anywho, S&C has a corporate account at Fitzgeralds."

"Oh, _great_," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. "Now I'm going to be _company_ gossip when the rest of your crew gets back home."

"Nothing most of them haven't seen before. Except for maybe the IT guys."

"Here we are, kiddies," Lorne said as they entered the club. "Not really karaoke night, but... Let me go and talk to the manager and the DJ for a minute and see if we can't work something out."

As he went strolling over toward the bar, Xander watched him, shaking his head, "And no one thinks twice about a bright green, red-eyed demon in a trench coat strolling up and asking to use the karaoke machine? Even with that fedora pulled down?"

"Hey, Vegas." Fred giggled. "They probably think he's with a show."

"No one blinks twice in L.A.," Cordelia said, "Why should they in Las Vegas? It's even weirder here, amazingly enough."

"Now you take that back," Gunn said. "Ain't no place weirder than L.A."

Lorne came back after a few minutes, carrying a Sea-breeze in one hand. "Ok, no probs. Vegas. Gotta love 'em."

Xander blinked, looking at Cordelia. "Oh-kay," he said, drawling the word out. "So, how does this work?"

"Easy, my young Casanova. You and the chickadee here just go up to the console and scroll around and pick some tunes you like, then each give me a number." He smiled, "Then afterward, we go sit in a corner and I give you your reading. Bang, zoom, zowie."

"Right."

"Ok, come on, Dweeb," Cordelia took him by the arm. "Let's get this over with."

The Angel Investigations crew migrated to the bar to watch as the two bickered and argued, occasionally punctuated with sharp gestures for emphasis. Xander pointed out a title and Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him, laughing.

"So... " Gunn said, looking at Lorne. "Think anything amounts to a hill of beans for our two crazy kids up there in this here world?"

"Well, you're mangling your Bogart, there, Shaft," Lorne said, "But I get the gist." He shrugged, palms up, "No clue. But some of the vibe off of those two, momma mia!"

"Fang there didn't look real happy when he caught what Cordy done and with who," Gunn remarked. "Whom?"

"Wait," Fred did a time-out gesture with her hands. "Ok, so, yeah, dropping off radar last night was a bit irresponsible, I'm a little irked by that, what with your soul in the balance and all – but Cordelia's a big girl now. She _can_ decide to go off and have a drunken fling ending in marriage if she wants to, right?"

"Yup." Gunn said, "And, hey – my soul, I should be the one all bent outta shape, if anyone. But I'm not, all that much."

"Or Groo, considering," Fred added.

"Not quite that simple, Peter Gunn, little Fredrika," Lorne said, shaking his head. "I'm gathering there's a lot of history there, and a bit of bad blood between our Dark Avenger and young Lochinvar there. And maybe some strong feeling on Tall Dark and Fangsome's end for the girl in question."

"Whoa – wait," Gunn's expression went incredulous. "You think Angel's got feelings for Cordy?"

"Feelings? Yes," Lorne gave a Gallic shrug, "But I don't think even our Angel of Darkness knows what _kind _of feelings."

"And the dude just got slapped in the chops with the concept that the time for figuring out may have done gone past," Gunn said, nodding slowly. "Man. Sucks to be him."

Up at the karaoke stage, following a vigorous discussion, Xander flipped a coin and Cordelia grinned at him, heading off the stage and down towards them. They broke off the line of conversation as she came up.

"Get it all figured out?" Gunn asked.

"Yup." Cordelia gestured to the stage. "And Dweeb there gets first shot." She frowned, "Hopefully Doofus won't give me _too_ hard an act to follow."

Around them, the various tables fell quiet – or at least quieter – as the lights dimmed and a spot over the karaoke stage and strains of piano and synthesizer came floating out of the karaoke machine.

Xander took the mike loosely in one hand, and a threw a wink and a half grin at Cordelia; before his eyes half closed and he launched softly into the quiet initial lines of...

"Tonight... I'm gonna have myself a real good time, I feel a-li-i-i-ive and the worrrlld it's turning inside out Yeah! I'm floating around in ecstasy so... "

... in a very credible Freddy Mercury.

A minute or so later, Gunn said, "Holy crap." He nudged Cordelia with an elbow, "Did you know he could do that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, only since Glee Club in the seventh grade, duh. And eighth grade talent show." She shook her head, "Hand him some original music and cut him loose and he's hopeless. But give him something he knows? And he can yank the voice for it somewhere out of his nether regions."

Lorne nodded, "Freddy's definitely not rolling in his coffin tonight, that's for sure." Some of the women in the club and a few of the men were starting to clap along.

"And he's _so_ doing this just to embarrass me when I get up there and screech like a tomcat. Jerk."

She saw Angel come in around the time Xander hit the segment on being a rocket ship on his way to Mars, and lean against a wall near the door, watching the stage with a pained expression. Fine. He wanted to be an antisocial jerk and pout over there instead of coming to the bar to join them, let him.

She grinned and said the hell with it mentally, and started clapping the rhythm along with everyone else. She felt her face get hot and a flush creep up her neck when he locked eyes with her on 'wanna make a supersonic woman outta you' and threw him a wolf whistle.

'Screw Angel, anyway. Metaphorically.

She grinned when Xander came down and headed over to them after, flushed and looking a bit startled at the applause and cat calls.

"Way to go, Jerkoff," Cordelia said, smacking him on the arm. "_Make_ me want to go find a hole somewhere and pull it in after me."

"Aww." Xander grinned back at her, accepting a slap on the palm from Gunn. "I just wanted to get it out of the way while there was still an audience. Before they all ran shrieking out of the club."

"Oooooh. I'll _show_ you 'shrieking'," she said, tossing her head and stalking angrily up towards the stage.

"That's what we're afraid of, dear," Xander called after her. He accepted a beer from the bartender and leaned back to sip it.

"Ouch," Gunn remarked. "You really _don't_ want to live 'til morning, do you?"

"You've heard Cordy sing, right?" Gunn's wince gave him all the answer he needed.

"Y'all two are being mean," Fred said. "And why is Angel leaning way over there?"

"I think he's pouting," Xander said.

Up on the stage, Cordy settled onto the stool, and her eyes flashed at him as she smirked and launched into...

"Some-body once told me the world is gonna roll me – I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed. And he was looking kinda dumb with his fingers and his thumb... "

She waggled the 'L' shape at him and he laughed.

"Huh. Not so bad," Gunn allowed.

Fred nodded vigorously, "It's no 'Greatest Love of All', and may I say: thank gods for that."

"_Now_ who's bein' mean?"

"Helps when she picks one she can kinda talk her way through," Xander remarked. "_Talking_, she's good at."

* * *

"Ok, goys and burls," Lorne said when Cordy'd finished up and rejoined them. "I know I said that 'once you were done' and all that," he held up a hand to forestall objections, "But I really need you two lovebirds to do me one more little thang first."

"Whut."

"Oh, no you don't," Cordelia said, shaking her head before Lorne even spoke again. "No. Hell no."

"But you haven't even heard me out," Lorne grinned. "Seriously. The two of you got lots of vibes going on up there," he said. "Painful vibes, even – for me," he waved to the bartender and pointed to his Sea-breeze. "Ow."

"So, you want us to... " Xander said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Make like a couple and head up there and give me some duet action so I can sort this all out," Lorne suggested. "Please."

Sighing, Cordelia grabbed his hand. "_Fine._ C'mon, Dork. Let's get this over with."

As they hit the lists again, Angel came over and ordered a Bushmills neat and tossed it back before turning to the others.

"Hey, Mister Anti-social," Fred said.

"Not now, Fred," Angel said. "Please."

She subsided, and he glanced over at Lorne. "So, get anything interesting from that?"

Lorne gave him a pained look. "Come on now, Big Guy," he said, "You know readings are between me and the client, only."

Angel nodded. "Well, except for the times when they're not."

"Hey – " Lorne held his hands up, palms out. "Special circumstances for anything, Bella. But these? Not one of them."

Angel sighed. "I know. I just... "

"Yeah," Lorne nodded, giving him a sympathetic look. "But if the kiddies want to share, that's up to them."

"So, Boss Man," Gunn said, giving Angel a sharp look. "What's with you and the White Boy up there, anyway?"

"I dunno," Angel said, shrugging. "He just _bugs_ me, is all." He glanced up at the stage where Xander and Cordelia were still having a spirited – and laughing – discussion over song choices. "And he's not _right _for Cordelia."

"Dunno," Fred said, dubiously. "They look pretty right to me from here."

"Oh, hell no." Angel winced. "And marriage? To Cordelia? He's just a kid."

"Heh. Don't look now, Boss, but _Barbie_ is just a kid," Gunn stated. "So are we all, really, that aren't in the two-hundred fifty bracket." He waved at the Pylean, "And whatever Lorne is."

"A gentleman never asks, and a lady never tells," Lorne said, smirking.

Angel snapped his head around, "But Cordy is – "

"Twenty-one, just," Gunn said. "Last I checked."

"And hey – free, white and twenty-one," Fred started, then her mouth made an 'O' and she looked apologetically at Gunn, "Sorry."

"Hey, no thang," Gunn grinned down at her.

"Old enough to marry, in most states," Fred finished.

Angel looked more and more dismayed as they went on. He shook his head, "But to Xander _Harris_?"

"Up to the girl, right?" Gunn said, shrugging.

Up at the mike, apparently having settled on something, Cordy and Xander settled in as the lights dimmed slightly and the soft stage spot lit them up.

Lorne held up a hand. "Hush. I really need to hear this."

Cordelia said something inaudible and Xander smirked, making her swat at him as he took his mike and leaned back from her.

He leaned down to whisper something, and Cordelia's eyes flashed at him in an 'Oh you so did _not_ just say that!' way that was familiar to everyone at A.I.

Xander grinned down at the flushed and obviously outraged girl, straightened a bit and tossed his head to whip his hair from his eyes, and then leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing, the corners of his lips curling up in something that was half grin, half sneer, and growled out in a dangerous and just slightly menacing tone:

"So. On a hot summer night, would you offer _your_ throat to the wolf with the red, red roses?"

Cordelia paled slightly and gulped so hard she missed her cue, joining in on the next line after.

"Holy shades of young Elvis, Batgirl," Lorne said. Angel's mouth dropped open.

Nodding vigorously, Fred said seriously, "I think half the panties in this room just got drenched."

Gunn stared at her incredulously. "Ok, who _are_ you and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

She giggled. "Hey! Before I spent five years living in a cave on Pylea, I was a college girl, jeeze," she said. "A grad student even. Have you ever _been_ to a post-grad party?"

"No, can't say I've had the pleasure," Gunn drawled.

"I'm crazy, Charles, _not_ a virgin." She looked back at the stage where Xander had just leaned forward again, smirking, to drawl, 'I'll just bet you say that to _all_ the boys'. She smirked, "And _definitely_ not dead from the waist down."

Gunn grinned back at her, and looked back to the stage, "Hey, Barbie's not half bad for a change."

Lorne nodded. "Barely suppressed rage apparently does wonders for Cordelia's pipes."

Angel stared up at the duo on stage, his mouth slightly open. At scattered tables around the club, people started to clap-clap on the 'tween beats as Cordelia leaned in, eyes and lips sparkling, and hit the alternate 'musta been while you were kissing me' to Xander's 'and then you took the words right out of my mouth' on the refrain.

He closed his jaw and glowered at the pair, pensively. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen Cordelia glowing and looking quite that happy in... he couldn't think of when, actually.

Definitely not since before Doyle died, anyway.

Somehow, this situation was spiraling out of control and Angel had _no_ idea what to do about it.

* * *

"Ok, kiddos," Lorne began...

They'd grabbed a corner booth and left Angel and the others sitting at the bar talking – or not, as the case might be: Angel didn't seem too communicative – and retreated for some privacy.

"Man oh man," the green-skinned demon pinched the bridge of his nose, and held up two fingers to the waitress after pointing at his nearly empty Sea-breeze glass. "Remind me not to have you two do that again. At least not without some extra-strength Excedrin around, 'k?"

Xander shrugged and took a swig of his Arrogant Bastard Ale – a choice that'd made Cordelia smirk and laugh out loud when he'd waggled his eyebrows at her and ordered it. "So, oh wise Swami, what _do_ you have for us?"

"Eeny meeny, chili beany, the spirits are about to speak," Lorne intoned.

Cordelia leaned forward, wide eyed, "But are they friendly spirits?"

"Just wait," Lorne grinned. "The shortest distance between two wisecracks – a straight-line. Ok." He took a deep breath and looked to Cordelia...

"You should be thanking your lucky stars that you bumped heads with young Lochinvar here, cutie. Not real sure exactly what the Fates had in mind for you, but it wasn't pretty, whatever it was."

"Wait," Cordelia held up a hand, "But I thought that the half-demon essence thing headed off the badness I was headed for, that Skip showed me?"

"Aspect of a demon, never a good thing," Xander said, his eyes going dark. She glared at him and he shrugged, "I'm just sayin', is all. Buffy and the telepath demon?"

Cordelia made a face.

"And," Xander turned to Lorne, scowling, "Why didn't you pick up on this before?"

"Not sure, and I'm not any happier about that than you look to be," Lorne said. "And believe me, Cordelia really is important to me – to all of us." He sighed, shrugging, "Didn't help that probably right after, Angel gave Cordy here a big bonus and sent her off on vacation with her Pylean Lothario for a couple a months and I never had much of a chance to.

"Anyway," he turned back to Cordy, "Your path just lightened considerably from what was around it, what I could see of it. And, apparently, that's tied in with your chance encounter here."

"Oh, great." She sighed, "So now I'm stuck with Dorkus here?"

"Now now, I didn't say that. But your paths are tangled up with his now, obviously." He drank down the rest of his Sea-breeze, and turned to Xander, leaving Cordelia to chew on that. "And you – " Lorne shuddered. "You needn't worry about the destiny thing or not believing in it. You, my young friend, _have_ no destiny."

"Wait, I'm going to die?" Xander looked alarmed. "And I was such a nice guy, too."

"No, no. Nothing like that," Lorne said. "It's more like... like I said, you have no destiny. The signposts I remarked on earlier? Yours are blank. And more – it's no wonder you derailed that Prophecy I glimpsed in your past. You, _you_ are an agent of chaos."

"Heh. I always felt like Maxwell Smart in a James Bond world," Xander said, smirking. Cordelia snorted.

"Not a bad analogy," Lorne said. "You're the Bugs Bunny of the supernatural world."

Snort. "More like the Moe Howard," Cordelia interjected.

"Nyuk nyuk nyuk," Xander said and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Laugh it up, fuzzballs. But I am being serious here – those are _apt_. Your roads of life, Xander?" Lorne said, seriously, "are like a rabbit warren, all looped around and crossing in and out over each other. Wherever your road hits a fork, so many different possible paths break out I can't even see all the possibilities." Lorne scowled. "And when someone else comes into your orbit? All the probabilities go out the window. You're like a logic bomb in the weavings of the web – you take a great big pair of garden shears to the threads of fate without apparently even trying, and hack up other peoples carefully plotted destinies."

"So Xander's a hairball in the throat of fate," Cordelia said, frowning. "Not like that's _news_ or anything, but what all does it mean? Like, for us? And, more importantly – me!"

"Damifino, Cupcake." Lorne threw his hands up. "All I can tell you is that _now_ you have chances and options, where you were apparently locked in before. And you have Lochinvar here to thank for that – things were grim, did I mention that? Before."

"Great." She threw up her hands, "I mean, not that I'm not grateful or nothing, I guess, but... "

"But you and Angel-kins are supposed to be the helpers of the helpless, not the rescuee?"

"Something like, yeah."

Lorne gave her a sympathetic look, but said, "Hey – as a wise man once said, we all need someone to lean on. Sometimes, that's just the way it is."

"So, Master Yoda, what about the future?" Xander asked, raising his eyebrows.

"The future you seek, hrrm?" Lorne shrugged, "Agent of Chaos, meet chaos theory. No clue, really – there's so many branching paths and possibilities for you both ahead they look like spaghetti cable in a server farm."

Lorne gave Cordelia a serious look, and added, "But if I were you, and I swung that way, I'd grab onto Maxwell here and hang on for dear life. Your entwined paths may not ever be safe – but they'll never, ever be boring."

"Oh no. Oh, no you don't," Cordelia said, her eyes going wide. "Not gonna happen. We're getting annulled, like, ASAP." She gave Xander a desperate look, "You understand, right? I _can't_ be married."

"And especially not to me, right?" Xander gave her a sour look. "Story of our lives, schweetheart."

"_Not_ what I meant." She gave him a helpless, almost pleading look. "_So_ very much not what I meant!"

"Up to you kids," Lorne said. "I just calls 'em like I sees 'em. And the only thing worth every penny is free advice."

"I need a drink," Cordelia said. "A stiff one."

"I _think_ that's what you said last night, Mrs. Harris," Xander smirked.

"Ok, so, not _that_ stiff, maybe," Cordelia grinned wryly at him. She slid out of the booth, standing.

"Think I'll join you on that. Mr. Jack and Mr. Black don't sound like a bad thing at the moment." He slid out and went after her, miming tipping his hat to Lorne. "Thanks, I guess."

Lorne shrugged, and drained his Sea-breeze, motioning to the waitress for another.

"I do know one thing, even without being able to see it," he remarked out loud to himself and the empty booth. "Clothos, Lachesis, and Atropos never like having the shears taken to their tapestries. Neither do the Powers."

He lifted his glass toward the pair. "Interesting times, my young friends."


	7. Don't Stop Me Now

**Chapter Six: Don't Stop Me Now (I'm Having Such a Good Time)**

* * *

"_Men who have a pierced ear are better prepared for marriage _– _they've experienced pain and bought jewelry." ― _Rita Rudner

* * *

"All right," Angel pushed away from the bar as Cordelia and Xander came back. "You're done. Let's go."

"Hey, don't leave on my account," Xander said.

Angel stared at him. "I'm not."

"Groovy." Cordelia elbowed him. "_Oof._"

"Angel," Cordelia began. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his slacks and looked down at her. "I really am sorry."

"Yeah... " The breath he didn't need huffed out of him. "Yeah. Not a problem," he said. "Just... " he made a vague gesture.

"Right," she nodded.

"Coming?" Angel looked at Gunn and Fred. Fred looked up at Gunn.

"You do remember I have my truck, right?" Gunn asked.

"Right... " Angel lifted an eyebrow.

Gunn looked down, studied his fingernails before looking back up and shrugging. "Think maybe if my girl here wants, we might stay on a bit. Get dinner, catch a show maybe."

"Oooh! That'd be nice," Fred said, nodding.

"Fine." Angel glanced over to Lorne as the green demon came up, sipping his Sea-breeze. "How about you?"

"Hrmm." Lorne shrugged. "Nothing against you, Angel-cakes, but, I'm thinking I might stay a few days, look into some things. Entertainment things." He shrugged, "Since I no longer have a club of my own."

"Right." Angel sighed and his head drooped slightly. He straightened. "Fine. Ok, see you all back at the hotel." He turned to go, "Whenever."

Everyone watched silently as he stalked out of the club.

"Ouch," Xander said, wincing.

Gunn shrugged, obviously uncomfortable, but obviously not going to let it bother him. "Hey, it's like Barbie said out there: the Big Guy? Sometimes he forgets he employs us, he ain't our keeper."

Xander spread his hands, "Angel. Not much on the social skills," he said. "But I'm pretty sure he doesn't see you that way."

Everyone stared at him.

"Ok, where's Xander and what have you done with him?" Cordelia demanded.

"Hey." Xander stuck his hands in his pockets, and hunched his shoulders uncomfortably. "My better nature gets me every once in awhile, before I manage to smother it again. Even concerning Angel."

"Softy," Cordelia smirked.

"You take that back, you, you... "

"What?"

"Nuthin' dear." Xander grinned, "And like I always say: Angel's our friend, even if we don't like him very much."

Gunn snorted. "Yeah, well... still. Meant what I said. Dinner, show, some time outta L.A. do us some good."

"Oh. Hey!" Xander dug into his pocket, pulled out a thin sheaf of tickets. "Penn & Teller, midnight show at the Rio. Extras."

"Bullsh*t!" Cordelia exclaimed; then flushed as everyone stared at her. "Hey – I love those guys." Her eyes narrowed slightly, "Where did you get those?"

"Concierge slipped them in my hand when we were leaving our hotel, earlier."

"Oh, for... " Cordelia's flush deepened, and she slumped. Sinking onto a bar stool, she waved the bartender over. "Captain Morgan, rocks. With a Bacardi chaser."

Xander grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "She's just never going to get over the fact that we're celebrities now."

"Oh, shut up."

"Order me a Jack Black and Soda dear?"

"Are your arms broke?"

Gunn and Fred grinned at him. "Sounds good," Gunn said, "I can do me some Bullsh*t!"

"Dinner at the Palazzo? There used to be a pretty nice place there... ?" Fred suggested.

"Hell, count me in," Cordelia said. She spun on her stool and handed Xander his Jack & Soda.

"Think yew." He sipped it, nodding. "We can move to the Rio if you really insist on leaving our current accommodations."

"Maybe," she tossed her head. "Wait – I like literally don't have anything to wear – I _can't_ go anywhere like this," she said, gesturing down across her current ensemble.

"No probs. I know for a _fact_ that there's stores around," Xander said, waggling his ring finger at her.

"Really?" Cordelia's eyes widened, then narrowed at him. "_Oh_-kay, so _how_ are you going to afford this? _Counting_ these _rings_? You're not running up, like, massive amounts of credit card debt are you?"

"Uh." Xander stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders again. Everyone looked at him curiously.

"You so are!"

"No! No, nothing like that," he said, holding his hands up, palms out to ward her off. "I kinda... uh, hit at roulette a time or two here at the Bellagio yesterday before we ran into each other. And the slots."

"You _what_?" Cordelia's eyes widened again.

"Dawg," Gunn shook his head. Fred snickered, covering her mouth with her hands and her eyes dancing.

"How much?" Cordelia said.

Wordlessly, Xander removed a folded cashier's check from his other inside pocket and held it up. Fred's eyes bugged out. Cordelia's mouth worked silently, counting zeroes.

"Man," Gunn said, shaking his head. "_You're_ buying dinner."

"oh." Cordelia said. "_That_ much." She looked dazed. "We are so hitting the Shoppes at the Palazzo. And the Forum Shops at Caesar's."

"Yes dear," Xander said, smirking.

Fred boggled. "Once you hit that, you walked away from the table, right?"

Xander stared at her. "Are you kidding? When I hit that last time, I _ran_ from the table. All the way to the cashier's window."

"Cool. Smart man," Gunn said. "Need to pick up a few things ourselves. We'll meet you at the restaurant. Where?"

"The Picasso? Over at the Bellagio?" Xander looked over at the silent Lorne. "You in?"

"Oh, no cupcake." Lorne shook his head, "You kids go ahead. Me?" He shrugged, "I was serious about wanting to look into some things around here."

"Cool." Gunn bumped fists with Lorne; looked to Cordelia, "We'll catch up to you guys in a bit."

"Yeah." Sliding off her stool, Cordelia grabbed Xander's hand. "Let's go, Dweeb."

Xander fluttered the check. "I think this makes me _Mister_ Dweeb to you, babe."

"You _wish_. Dear."

* * *

A set of luggage, toiletries, several outfits and ensembles, and a couple of garment bags later, they were seated with Gunn and Fred and the ruins of a steak and lobster dinner being cleared away around them. Xander ordered coffee and after dinner liqueurs all around, and waved off the dessert menu with a murmured "In a little while" and a grin.

Cordelia was wearing a simple white, pin-striped pantsuit thing with wide lapels that showed off her cleavage and just a hint of lacy black bra to good advantage. Xander thought she looked like a million and a half, and change. Gunn had changed into a rather severe looking dark gray three-piece, with Fred in a little black dress that showed off acres of long, coltish leg. They looked pretty good, too.

"Man, that hit the spots," Gunn said, leaning back. "All of them."

"Oh, yeah," Cordelia said, leaning back contentedly.

Nod. "Room service was a long time ago, yup."

"So," Fred propped her chin on his fist and looked at him curiously. "Whatcha gonna do with your unexpected windfall?"

"Dunno," Xander looked introspective for a moment, then shrugged. "Bank it. Buy a few things I've had my eye on. And someone has to float Buffy and Dawn periodically, since Giles went back to Ye Merry Olde."

"Wait – " Cordelia put a hand up, frowning. "Giles left? After Buffy... " she made a vague, odd gesture.

"Was yanked out of the afterlife by her asshole friends and was having to struggle with a dependent younger sister and trying to figure out why she wanted to be alive again? Yup," Xander said, nodding.

"That... sucks." Cordelia said, scowling.

"Ask me if I'm happy with it," Xander said. "Go on, I dare ya."

"Huh. Dunno the players," Gunn said, "So I'm stayin' out of it."

"He's coming back," Xander said, a bit grimly. "One way or another."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow, and he elaborated, "_I__'m_ suddenly have things to deal with, and wrap up, maybe. And Willow needs to have someone she might have a hope in hell of actually listening to. And not that I was doing such a great job of dealing with everything."

"It's a big load," Cordelia said, nodding. "And you can't take care of everyone, dweeb."

"I can try," Xander replied, with a shrug. "But comes a time I can say I can't try by myself."

"M'kay," Fred said, "So, I'm lost here."

"It's a... really long story," Cordelia said. "The endless whirling saga of Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Scooby Gang. Kinda like Passions, only with no plot."

"And bad writing," Xander said, nodding.

"Scooby Gang?" Gunn said, a grin breaking out on his lips.

"I was young," Xander said, "And on a massive sugar high that day."

"It was that or the Slayerettes," Cordelia added.

Snigger. "Sounds like a Vega Chorus Line," Gunn said.

"You _so_ see my point."

"So," Fred shook her head. "Save it, spend it, and support your friends. Good," she nodded.

"And, I have the little woman to support now," Xander added.

"Ooooh!" He ducked and caught Cordelia's napkin as it came whizzing at his head.

"You two are... " Gunn shook his head, "Something else."

"Zoologists are still trying to classify what."

"How long _have _you two known each other anyway?" Fred asked, snickering.

Cordelia said, "Too long," at the same time Xander answered, "Since Kindergarten."

"And you were together how long?" Fred asked.

"Over a year," Cordelia said. "Almost a year and a half."

"Not counting second grade, when we were first wed," Xander said. "And the three weeks we were together in summer of the sixth grade."

"Wait – you were married before?" Fred's eyes got wider.

"Second grade, jeeze. It was a thing," Cordelia's eyes rolled. "There was a gum machine ring involved. And a stolen Barbie Doll."

"I held her Barbie hostage until she agreed to marry me."

"You so did not!"

"Ok, I held Willow's Barbie hostage. And_, boy,_ was she pissed."

Gunn snickered, "Somethin' else." He looked at Fred, fondly. "Be nice to have history like that someday."

"Really not," Xander said, shaking his head, his eyes crinkling at Cordelia. "Eighteen years of crayons and arguing and her knowing all about your first grade paste eating habits."

"And your throwing up in the pool at my seventh birthday party."

"I told you, that clown scared me."

"Clowns are bad," Fred agreed.

"Evil," Xander nodded, shuddering. "Clowns aren't funny to me, in fact – they're kind of scary. Often wondered where that all started and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus, and a clown killed my dad."

Cordelia swatted him. "He _so_ did not!"

Xander grinned at her, sticking his tongue out. "And having your best friend fixated on your worst frenemy for years. Oh – and lots of stolen kisses and slaps along the years."

"Slap slap, kissy kissy." Gun said, snickering.

"Story of our lives," Xander said, shrugging. "How 'bout you two?" he looked curiously at Gunn and Fred.

"She was being held in durance vile in a demon dimension," Gunn said.

"And then a big, strong handsome man came and rescued me." (Beat) "And then I met Gunn." Blazing smile.

"Hey now. Gonna hurt my feelings and shit."

Fred grinned back at him, "But that's the way it happened. Oh – but Cordelia was a princess there."

"Cordelia was a princess before."

"Yeah, but _now_ I have the crown and chain mail bikini to go with the title."

"Chain mail... " Xander's eyes glazed over and his lips worked soundlessly.

"And it'll be a cold day in hell before you see it," Cordelia said, smirking at him.

"Cruel, cruel woman," he said, shaking his head.

"And don't you forget it." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Ok," Fred put her hand out on the table towards Cordy. "Let me see your ring. Gimme."

"Demanding little thing, isn't she?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow at Gunn, but held her hand out catty-corner across the table to Fred.

After studying Cordelia's ring, Fred looked to Xander. "Gimme," she said, reaching out for his hand." When he started to pull off the ring, to hand it to her, she looked scandalized, "No! Don't take it off, jeeze. Just give me your hand."

He did, and Fred took it, studying the ring so intently she could have had an invisible jeweler's loop stuck in her eye. "_Never_ take off a wedding ring. It's bad luck."

"Ah." Xander exchanged a quick look and a flash of grin with Cordelia, and said seriously, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Ok, so I get the platinum and diamonds, but why titanium?" Fred looked up from her scrutiny, her eyes dancing with curiosity.

"Uh... " Xander started, his mind going blank. He noticed Cordelia and Gunn both with their elbows on the table and chins propped in their hands, studying him with equal curiosity. "Stop that, you two."

"Naw. I just _gotta_ hear this," Gunn said, grinning. Cordelia nodded enthusiastically.

Rolling his eyes, Xander said, "I can't take you two anywhere."

"Nope. So make with the explain-y. 'Fess up Hyena Boy," Cordelia said, grinning.

"Keep in mind, most of this is lost in a haze of tequila and boiler makers, never to see the light of day again, but... " Xander frowned thoughtfully, then continued. "Seem to recall looking at rings and there was something about precious metals being soft and wearing away, but _titanium_ – titanium is for-freaking-ever." He grinned and spread his hands, "I mean, they make spacecraft parts out of titanium, and even used titanium-steel alloy for the .44 Automag, back in the Seventies. They had to make special tools just to machine that stuff."

"Oh!" Cordelia's eyes widened and everyone looked at her. She glanced around, frowning. "I just had a flash of memory bite me."

"Well, don't hog it all, Barbie," Gunn said. "Spit it out."

"Ptui!"

"Ewww."

"Hey, he asked for it," Cordelia said, grinning. "Something... ok now, be quiet and don't scare it away."

She shook her head, then brightened, "Oh! Ok. Something like, 'Though the suns may die and the stars go out, and the galaxies grind to a frozen halt – somewhere as the universe dies these rings will still be sitting on a frozen plain under a cinder of a sun with the inscriptions proclaiming 'For You and No Other'." She frowned slightly, her nose crinkling at him, "Sound familiar, Geek Boy?"

"Vaguely," Xander said, nodding slowly, "Did that flash include a hand putting on a ring and Elvis in a priest collar?"

"Something like," she agreed.

"Wow." Fred blinked.

"Oh, please. He probably stole that from a science fiction novel," Cordelia said. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Never get drunk and marry a childhood friend," Xander told Gunn in serious tones. "They know you too damned well."

* * *

_Later over dessert and more coffee and liqueur..._

"... Ok, so, well – except for the fact that I was nuts – I couldn't get used to the idea that this world was real and I wasn't still trapped on Pylea," Fred was saying. "Used to hole up in my room and scribble equations on the wall, like it was my cave. So I can relate to your friend Buffy." She smiled at Gunn, "But we really did _waste_ so much time that we could have spent kissing. And making out." Gunn grinned back at her.

Xander shrugged. "I wasted our time pining for the girl who didn't want to have anything to do with me, and having an affair with my other childhood friend. Who decided she wanted her werewolf boyfriend more than she wanted me."

"Wasted _our_ time?" Cordelia's eyes flashed at him.

"Wasted the time you and I had," Xander said. "Wasted the time we could have had."

"Oohh! You!" Cordelia's hand smacked the table and Gunn jumped as water danced in their glasses. "Why the _hell_ didn't you say that back when it might have mattered, dumb ass?"

Xander's eyes flashed dangerously. He leaned towards her. "Oh, gee Cordy, I dunno. Maybe because you weren't talking to me at the time? Or answering my calls?"

"Oh, yeah, like _that_ ever stopped you!"

"Well what was I _supposed_ to do?" Xander said, shaking his head. "Yank you into a broom closet and _make_ you listen to me?"

"Yeah? And why not?" Infuriating... man.

"Well, maybe I was afraid you'd get a restraining order? Or something?"

"Oh yeah. Sure didn't stop you from doing _just_ that right after we kissed in Buffy's basement, back when we didn't even _like_ each other."

"That was an empty classroom," Xander remarked.

"_What_ever." Cordelia tossed her hair, eyes blazing. "You could make the time to force a girl who _hated_ you since third grade talk to you, but _no_, not the girl you'd been with for a year and a half. Not _you_."

"Maybe I was afraid you'd listen," he said, quietly. "And then still hate me."

"Oh, yeah... oh." She stopped.

"Yeah."

"Could have given me the chance," Cordelia said, a bit sullenly.

"I did. You never picked up the phone." Xander pushed his chair back and stood, dropping his napkin on the table. "Suddenly feel a need for the little boys room."

"Yeah, me too," Gunn said, excusing himself and standing up.

"Sorry," Cordelia said, seeing Fred studying her intently.

"Oh, no worries." Fred stated. "Just... was starting to feel maybe that was too intensely _private_ a discussion for onlookers."

"Again, sorry."

"Naw. Happens," Fred shrugged, easily. She was still studying Cordelia a bit too intently, her eyes searching.

"What? Do I have something on my chin... ?"

"Oh, no," Fred waved that off. "Just... thinking that if I had a guy who looked at me like that, I'd never let him go."

"Shows what you know," Cordelia said. She sighed deeply. "Like what?"

"Like his whole world was wrapped up in my eyes, and when he looked there, everything else vanished."

"Oh." Cordelia swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She took a sip of water, then frowned and said, "Wait – you _do_ have a guy who looks at you like that."

"I know. Now I just need to figure out what to do about it."

* * *

"So," Xander began, his lips starting to twitch, "Barbie?"

"Sunnydale Barbie, yup," Gunn said. "Seemed to fit."

"Oh, it does, it does," Xander said, starting to laugh.

"Hey, our girl's changed a bit since I first met her, but she can still go all 'snotty Upper Class Princess' on us in twenty seconds flat."

"Eleven when she hits the nitro boost," Xander agreed. "I'm just laughing because the last guy who nailed her with something like that spent the next two years carefully edging past her at Sunnydale High, covering his nads with both hands." He gave Gunn an impressed look, "You a brave, brave man."

"Hey, ain't no thing," Gunn said, laughing. "She ain't got nuthin' on my Grandma in a world class snit."

Nod. "So," Xander said, "You do know that it's only the gals who're really required to go in herds, right?"

"Yeah." Gunn stuck his hands in his pockets and looked carefully straight ahead. "Figured we needed to have a talk."

"Ah. So, is this the shovel speech?"

"Damn. Knew I forgot something," Gunn said. "Hey. I'm finding out more past than I realized this evening, and I knew you guys had had a history and shit, right?"

Xander nodded; said, "But if I hurt her... "

"Yeah. But if'n you go hurting my girl there like you done before," Gunn stated, "We're gonna have a talk. And only one of us is gonna enjoy it. Dig?"

"Dug," Xander nodded, pausing with his hand on the restroom door. "And, y'know? I really kind of appreciate this."

At Gunn's raised eyebrow, Xander elaborated. "Kinda nice to know Cordy has someone who cares about her enough to give me the shovel talk." He pushed the door open, "I was starting to wonder."

* * *

"You guys came in that thing?" Xander shook his head, "You're braver than I thought."

"Hey," Gunn said, holding the door of his truck open for Fred. "Don't be dissin' my girl now. I'll have to find that shovel and beat you to death with it."

"A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend," Xander nodded, sagely.

"But yours is nice, too," Gunn said, jerking his head towards Xander's almost new Chevy Avalanche. "For a Chevy."

Xander grinned. Ford versus Chevy men. Just like being at the bar after work with the guys. "Perks of the job," he said, opening the door for Cordelia as she came out. "And it's practical – for hauling wide loads."

"Hey!" Cordelia froze part way in, to glare at him. "I heard that."

"Ok, _now_ who has a death wish?" Gunn shook his head, sniggering.

"_Men!_"

"Yup," Fred called back. "Can't live with 'em, and the cops get pissed off if you turn them into something useful, like mulch."

"Got that right," Cordy gave him one last glare. "All right, dweeb. Do something useful – drive."

"As you wish," Xander said, sweeping a bow at her.

"Grrf."

"Ok," Xander grinned over at Gunn, who winked. "Penn & Teller? You know where the Rio is, right?"

"Think we can find it," Gunn allowed. "Don't you two kiss kiss slap slap too much while you're driving now."

* * *

_Much later..._

Penn & Teller, done and gone. Sitting around a table at one of clubs at the Rio, taking a break from the dance floor, sipping cool drinks and talking the wee hours gone.

"So... hey, had to do it, man. No way around it – couldn't let that thing run around with Alonna's face killing people. Not what she'd a wanted."

"Yup. Sucks," Xander said, nodding seriously.

Gunn gave him a sharp look, and Cordelia cut in, "He had to stake his best friend, Jesse, after he was turned. And I watched – Xander saved my life that night. So, we know."

Gunn studied the two of them for a long moment; nodded sharply. "Yeah... " he raised his glass. "Here's to dead friends and absent relatives."

"Skoal," they all lifted glasses, drank.

"So... " Fred started, looking like she desperately wanted to find a different topic. "The dance floor. Where'd you learn that?"

"Huh?" Xander and Cordelia both stared at her, then looked at each other.

"Just a waltz, jeeze," Cordelia said, shrugging.

"Nah. _Charles_ and I were waltzing," Fred said earnestly, gesturing. "That was like ballroom stuff."

Cordelia and Xander exchanged looks; raised their eyebrows. Shrugged.

"The summer you mentioned between sixth and seventh?" Xander made an 'after you' gesture and Cordelia shook her head. "Naw. You tell it."

"Long story," Xander began. He smirked, said, "Cordy's dad," and stopped. She swatted him.

"Barbie's _dad_ taught you to dance?" Gunn stared at him. "And _you_ were razzing _Angel_ about bein' a bit light in the loafers."

"Hey! Cordy's dad was a very good looking man, I'll have you know." Xander ducked to one side as Cordelia swatted at him again. "Neener neener. Missed."

Fred dope smacked him from the other side. "Ow," he rubbed his head and gave her a wounded look.

"Thank you," Cordelia said. Fred giggled. "Sigh. Ok. Daddy got on a thing about how every proper young debutante – _not_ that any deb in _our_ family was ever _proper _– needed to know how to dance properly. And Mother, naturally, was all _over_ that." She rolled her eyes, "And I _so _was _not_ going to get any of the guys I dated involved in this."

"Except you kinda did."

"We were not dating!"

"Beg to differ," Xander crossed his arms over his chest. "Tommy Jannsen dumped her at the end of school for a girl at Carpenteria Middle."

"And you suckered me into it!" Fred and Gunn's heads swiveled like spectators at a tennis game.

"I found you crying on the playground and bet you that I could make you laugh, if you'd go to the movies with me." Xander grinned and his eyes crinkled at her, "You laughed so hard you fell off the see-saw."

Cordelia snorted. "I never before saw anyone try to stand on their head on a skateboard, crossing their eyes with their tongue stuck out, and rubbing their tummy in circles before – while trying to drink a Coke. You blew soda out your nose and dribbled it all over your hair."

"It worked," he stuck his tongue out at her. He looked at Fred, grinning. "So _she_ drags me to these ballroom dancing lessons... and for about two-and-a-half weeks we were Fred and Ginger."

"Until Fred _Flintstone_ here leaned in to kiss me at Montclair Malt Shoppe and spilled a chocolate shake all down the front of my formal gown. My brand _new_ gown!"

"And dear, sweet Ginger here jumped up, eyes all aflash and belted me one," he said, eyes dancing. "Broke my frigging nose."

Fred's eyes bugged out, then she collapsed against Gunn in spasms of helpless laughter. Gunn snickered, then started to guffaw.

"You _so_ had it coming. Jerk."

"I had to go to the emergency room!" Xander waggled his eyebrows. "That ended _that_ summer of romance."

"Hey, now," Gunn wiped at his eyes while Fred whooped for breath. "You didn't learn that in under three weeks."

Xander and Cordelia both rolled their eyes in unison. "My mom thought it was a freaking wonderful idea," he said, sighing. "She paid up and made me go the rest of the summer."

"Yeah," Cordelia said, snickering. "And now – give him something with a modern beat and he's Steve Urkel on crack. But put a tux and a _real_ dance tune in front of him, and whoa – heat flash. Gene Kelly, back up."

Fred shook her head. "I'm having to reconsider that whole Bogart thing now. You need a fedora and a gat. You're evil," she shook her finger at Xander. "No wonder Lauren Bacall here can't stay away over the years."

"_Evil?_ Me?" Xander's eyes widened, "_She_ broke _my_ nose!"

"Give it up, Bogie," Gunn said. "You're never gonna win that one – even I know better than to spill milkshake all over a gal's formal."

"Neener neener, Doof. Told you so."

* * *

"So." Xander leaned against the door to the room, palms flat on the door and one hand on either side of Cordy's head, her arms wrapped around his neck. She looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. "Thought you were never coming back here again?"

"It's four in the morning, jeeze," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. "We can relocate tomorrow."

"Ah." He nodded, looking down into her eyes. "That works for me."

She yawned and blinked up at him, sleepily. "So, were you going to, like, _do_ anything with this compromising position here? Or just lean and catch a snooze?"

Xander's lips twitched. "Well, that all _depends_."

"Oh? On what?"

He leaned forward until their lips met and they both dissolved in sensation for an endless time.

"Guess that answers that question," she said, panting for breath.

"It's late and I'm short on words," he said, smiling slightly. "Figure action speaks louder anyway." He kissed her again.

"Yum." She looked up at him, eyes half closed. "I... actually had a really good time tonight, Mr. Chase. All things considered."

"I kind of enjoyed it myself, Mrs. Harris."

She snickered. "C'mon. Let's go to bed."

Xanders eyes widened. "Why, what kind of boy do you think I am?"

She wiggled against him. "Heh. The kind who either has a gat in his pocket or is happy to see me," she said. "Why? What kind of girl do you think I am?"

"The kind who gets drunk and wakes up married to strange men in Vegas?"

"You're pretty strange, all right."


	8. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

**Interlude the First: It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, at O-dawn-thirty**

* * *

"_I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack all at once__." ― _Ashleigh Brilliant

* * *

It was dark, and shot through with rumbles and flashes of lightning. There was a soft glow off to one side in the distance, so he stuck his hand in his pockets and walked towards it.

The glow came from a campfire, surrounded by dark creepy woods, and night sounds. A figure squatted on its heels opposite, stirring the coals with a twig.

Not even thinking to wonder how he'd gotten there, or even where 'there' was when he distinctly remembered going to sleep in his room at the Fitzgerald's with Cordy sprawled bonelessly across his chest, he took a mirroring squat on his side of the fire. Nodded to the other figure.

"Took you long enough."

"Was busy," he said, spreading his hands and giving a little shrug.

"I saw. Monkey business." The other guy had an oddly familiar smirk. He decided he didn't like other guy. Unattractive smirking bastard.

Other Guy was tall, about his own six foot height. He had on a pair of black fatigue pants, old jump boots, a black open shirt over a black t-shirt, and a long, black, oiled canvas duster. A low slung belt held a long bladed sword in a beat up scabbard and a 1911 pistol, and there was a black leather, flop-brim Aussie hat over the shaggy black hair. There was a spill of comic books out of the old knapsack tossed carelessly to one side.

Xander snorted, and a pair of quizzical green eyes came up to meet his brown ones. The smirk turned into a lopsided grin. Other Guy had long, shaggy side burns and a three day stubble.

"I get it," Xander said. "You're, like, Evil Twin Me."

"Not hardly." Other Guy shook his head, "I _am_ you, dip shit."

"Hyena me, maybe." Xander studied him further. "Maybe merged with Soldier Boy me."

"Remnants," Other Guy said, shaking his head. "_You_ you."

"Riiiiggghhhtt." He stared. "Where's your gills?" Xander said, snorting.

"Where's yours?" Other Guy looked disgusted. "You're gonna be out for awhile yet, but we _still _don't have time for this crap."

"So?"

"Ok. Let's try this again," Other Guy said, rolling his eyes. "I'm _you_, dumbass. I'm the reptile brain that remembers what it was like to be hyena, and what raw pig tastes like and _likes_ it. I'm the ancient part that remembers soldier boy and how to field strip and re-assemble an M-16 in nine seconds. I'm the part of you that's loved Cordy all these years, and Willow too. I'm the part that went 'Oh yeah!' when Faith said she'd steer us around the curves and jumped her bones. I'm the part that told Buffy she was dead meat if anything happened to Willow, and meant that for Cordy, too. I'm the part that stared down Angelus in the hospital when your better side had piss running down his leg. I'm the part that takes all the shit that comes in during the day and sorts it and slaps the relevant parts up on the big projection screen for your nightly entertainment."

Xander raised an eyebrow, and Other Guy said, "I'm your subconscious, dickhead."

"Yep." Xander nodded. "You're obviously my subconscious dickhead."

Smirk. "Ooh, nice shot."

"Ok, so why are we squatting here having a face to face, instead of me kicking back with popcorn and watching the nightly film festival?"

"Because... " Other Guy shook his head, and shrugged slightly. "Damifino. First time this's ever happened to me, too."

Xander threw his head back and laughed. "Glad to see I'm not the only one not in the loop."

"Hey, they don't hand out instruction books for this crap," Other Guy said, grinning back at him. "But listen – while we got the chance, however we got it: we got some stuff to figure out and discuss real deep and serious."

"I'm listening."

"What I like about you: you don't fuck around when it's really serious."

"'K, so... lay it on me. Us."

"First off," Other Guy stared at him intently, like he was trying to bore into Xander's brain. Which was kinda silly, all things considered. "Do you love her?"

"Huh? Which her?"

"Oy." Other Guy shook his head. "Which her do you _think_, dumbass?"

"Oh." Xander nodded. "Yup. Always have, never stopped."

"No hesitation. Good – we're both on the same page." Other Guy flashed him a quick, approving grin, then sobered abruptly. "And good: because you're both gonna need that. Don't let go of it."

"Ok." Xander nodded. "Easy enough. Why?"

"All the crap that filters in sorted out and suddenly clicked. And the picture don't look pretty," Other Guy's eyes narrowed. "Remember Green-guy's reading?"

"Yeah... ?"

"Remember the part where Lorne said that Cordy should thank her gods that you and she bumped heads when you did, because the path she was on led nowhere but grim?"

Xander nodded slowly. "I'm getting a bad feeling about where you're headed there."

Snort. "You an' me both, pal. Think about what she's told you, and think about what she's said has happened recently, and think about who aimed her down that path, for whatever reasons... "

"Crap."

"Succinctly put," Other Guy said, his eyes crinkling in concern. "Are you pondering what I'm pondering, Pinky?"

"I'm thinking them Powers ain't gonna be real fucking happy when they find out the Universe's favorite butt-monkey shunted our Cordy onto the adjacent line away from Badsville."

"Great minds think alike. So do ours."

"So, what do we do about this?" Xander had a full body shudder as all of the implications sank in.

"Facing a crap storm and finding out we're the whirling blades?" Other Guy shrugged, and made a hands spread, palms up gesture of uncertainty. "Your job, chum. I'm sorting and filing and all about the instincts and shit. You – _you_ do all of the cognitive thinking up there in the fore-brain."

"Gee, thanks." Xander rolled his eyes and snorted derisively.

"Hey, we're just lucky I got the chance to push this brain flash up there where you can see it. Instead of having to filter it through dreams and nightmares and half-remembered imagery." Other Guy shrugged, but he didn't look any happier than Xander must. "I'm not real big on planning and strategy and logic and deductive reasoning. I do emotion and reflexes."

"Ok, so what do emotion and reflexes tell me?"

"I'd say 'grab the girl and run like hell until you find a hole to pull in after yas', but I don't think that'll help," Other Guy said, seriously.

"Figured that out already," Xander said. "Way ahead of you."

"Other than?" Other Guy shrugged, "Grab hold of her, and stand in the way of what's coming and _don't_ let her face it alone. The Giles thing? Good idea."

"I thought so. And Willow, or maybe Tara. Don't really trust Willow not to fuck up in her state."

"Good thinking," Other Guy nodded. "And if you really love her? Just love her, man. Love her and don't stop." Other Guy locked eyes with him and added, "'Cause I'm tellin' ya, pal... "

"Yeah?" Xander raised an eyebrow.

"Taken years to get back to this point. Fuck this up like you did before, and hurt her or get her killed... and I'm gonna sink Hyena Boy's teeth in yer throat and choke on your blood all the way down into the afterlife."

"Good imagery." Xander's eyes went green and his smile went absolutely feral. "No power on this fucking Earth, or off of it."

"Got that right," Other Guy nodded approvingly, sharp canines glinting back at Xander in his return grin. "Damn straight." His shadow on the stone walls behind him was huge and shaggy and hunched.

"Hey – _will_ I remember this in the morning?"

"Gods, I hope so," Other Guy's eyes widened. "I dunno if I'll ever be able to do this again." The eyes narrowed again, "'Sa dream, though. Might come through in bits and pieces, like all dreams."

"Oh, well." Xander sighed, then looked at his alter-ego. "Wasn't planning on letting go, anyway. In case you missed it, I'm thinking we're staying of the married if there's any even_ remote_ way I can talk Cordy into doing it."

"Damn straight. You'd have to be an idiot not to." Other Guy grinned, "And reams of evidence to the contrary, you're really _not_ an idiot."

"Gee, thanks."

Shrug. "I'll do my best to push bits and pieces and stuff up into the waking brain even if you do lose a lot of this. Best I can do."

* * *

"_Thanks much_," he mumbled...

"Huh." Xander shifted as his eyes flickered open, and settled Cordelia's weight more comfortably in his arms across his chest. "Weird dream. Damn."

He fell back into sleep to the sound of Cordy's little grumbling and lip smacking sounds as she settled herself closer to him, a slight smile on her lips.

* * *

"No thank you, I really hate Muenster."

When she had stepped out of the elevator, there was a tall, dumpy man standing before her and slightly to the side wearing a dark blue suit covered in slices of processed American cheese; with brill cream hair, and with Clark Kent glasses with those thick coke-bottle bottom lenses. He offered her a platter covered with various cheeses in a broad, spiral array.

"But the Muenster seems to really like you," he said, offering the tray insistently.

"No, I'm really more of a blue cheese person," Cordelia insisted. She took a wedge of said blue from the serving platter and popped it in her mouth.

Hmm. Wow. Excellent. Needs a nice dry white to wash it down...

He scowled at her, and then at his tray, but inclined his head and intoned, "You are not the cheese. But the cheese, also, is not you."

"Be one with the cheese," she agreed, sweeping past him. "I married mine," she added.

"The cheese will not save you!" he called after her, then vanished with a pop! of displaced air.

"It will if I cut it," she said.

She stopped before a vaguely familiar door she'd never seen in her life, turned the knob, and pushed it open. There was a living room past it, filled with expensive workout equipment, stylish furniture and furnishings – expensive stylish – and strewn with comic books and paperback novels. Mostly Super-hero stuff and fantasy and sci-fi.

The huge picture window was shattered and almost empty of glass, and she went to it, gazing out briefly on the Sun Cinema marquee and out across the downtown district.

A chill wind blew up her spine and she shivered, crossing quickly to the other door, past the Nautilus machines.

There was a sheathed knife in her hand as she stepped through the door into a bedroom, and then the bedroom was the living room with all the stuff replaced by a huge California king and vanity and dresser and chiffarobe. And a play-station and plasma TV.

Faith stood by the bed at the side toward the huge, shattered picture window, looking down mournfully at the enormous bloodstain covering the, uh, coverings.

Cordelia crossed over to her, holding out the knife pommel first, and said, "This is yours, I think."

"Huh." Faith turned to her and broke out into a wide, brilliant smile, her dimples lighting up. "Never saw it before. But thanks." She clipped the scabbard to her waistband and said, "Girl likes a sharp knife, y'know?"

"Yeah," Cordelia nodded, remembering...

"Hey, Queenie," Faith said, turning back to the mess. "Gimme a hand here, wouldja? Someone sure got stuck like a pig in here."

Cordelia nodded and crossed to the other side of the bed, and helped Faith take off the stained comforter and they begin to fold it in that two person process that always resembled an elaborate dance to her.

"Gotta get this all neat and nifty, you know? So She can move right in when she comes."

"Who's she?" Cordelia cocked her head, warily searching the other girl's coffee colored eyes for any sign of hostility, and finding none.

"Her." Faith quirked a half grin. "You know."

"No, I really don't," Cordelia said, as they began on the blanket underneath the now folded comforter. Faith frowned, glancing over her shoulder toward the shattered window.

"You have to know," Faith said, looking back at her, a faint crease between the eyebrows and a look of deadly, almost desperate earnestness on her features. "It's in you to know. It's all being prepared for it to be in you to know."

"What is, damn it?"

Faith sighed, shaking her head. "And I can't be there to help you stand."

"Faith!" Cordelia took the folded corners from her, gave it the final fold, and set the bloody blanket atop the comforter to the side. She reached out and took the other girl's hands, forgetting how dangerous she was, and clasped them as those eyes threatened to well up on her. "Stand against _what_, Faith?"

"From within you, it devours," Faith said, the words and the flat, empty, bereft tone making her go cold all the way through, from the pit of her stomach out. "And we've never had to stand alone before. Tripod is always strongest."

"I'm not alone," Cordelia said, shaking her head in confusion. "You, maybe."

Nod. "Rule of three, babe." Faith pulled her hands away and started on her edge of the top sheet. "Gots to be three."

"What, Mother, Maid and Crone?"

"Naw," Faith tossed her head, laughing and the dimples flashing at her again. "Tripod, silly. Bare is the back with no sister. Knight, Queen, King. King, Queen, Consort. Gots to be three."

"Oh-kay... " Cordelia shook her head. Too surreal.

Faith nodded, gazing seriously at her. "Save the cheerleader, save the world," she said, and snickered. "Oh, wait – wrong show."

"Has it ever occurred to you that you may be _completely_ insane?' Cordelia asked.

"Hey, you're in the World's Dream, talking to shadows, Queenie," Faith grinned, dimpling again. "So who's not on the cover of Sanity Fair now?" They started on the fitted sheet, then, as Cordelia blew out her breath in exasperation.

"So, why are we having this conversation? You and me?"

Faith looked at her like the question made zero sense whatsoever; Cordelia had just stated the sum total of fuck all as far as the other girl was concerned.

"Gotta pull you out, dumb ass. Can't let you go down," Faith said slowly. "You're the other half of my other half and all that shit." She frowned, "Ashes to ashes, all fall down."

Cordelia cocked her head, studying the other girl. "Y'know? I can't say that you're who I'd expect to be having this conversation with."

"Oh?" Faith looked at her, the coffee colored eyes amused. "Why's that?"

"Because you and me?" Cordelia shrugged. She brought her ends of the sheet up to Faith's and they folded again. "Not so much for civilized conversations.'

Faith froze, her eyes studying Cordelia intently. "So. You and me, not best friends, then?"

"Not so's you'd notice."

"Ah." Faith seemed to deflate a bit, then she straightened and turned to lay the folded sheet on the vanity atop the blood stained blanket and spread. "There, all done." The bed was made up again, only pristine now – no blood. She smiled, tilting her head, and folding her arms across her chest. "Then I must be a different Faith. Or you're a different Cordelia."

"Alternate universe thing?" Cordelia frowned.

"Dunno," Faith frowned slightly. "Giles and Jonno are the brains. You're the steel. Xander's the heart. Amy's the magic. And I'm just the hand that wields the blade."

"Pity. It's a shame we weren't friends, even when we were friends."

Faith's lips twitched up at the corners. "At any point before you pass the final gates, you can always change your luck, Cordy."

"I'll try to remember that."

Faith glanced around. "I don't remember this apartment from anywhere, but it feels like it's mine, so I must be a different Faith." She looked seriously at the slightly taller girl, and said, "Make _sure_ you remember. Change that luck."

There was a bright white flash that lit up the entire room, and a cold breeze blew in through the broken window. A long moment passed, and then thunder rumbled and growled.

"Storm coming in," Cordelia shivered and she crossed her arms over her breasts, turning to face the window and the view.

"Yeppers." Faith nodded, standing beside her, looking out. "Gonna be a real frog strangler when it busts wide open."

The lightning flashed again, and there was a sense of things walking on the wind and the night, beyond the window. The crash came again, and after the thunder, there came a howl and a bubbling, cackling laughing bark off in the distance.

"Your boy's out there watching out for you," Faith said, seriously. Cordelia looked at her sharply. Faith shrugged, and said, "He's hunting."

"I hate it when he does that," Cordelia said for some reason she couldn't name. "Never get the hair off the sofa."

Faith turned slightly and Cordelia followed her gaze to the vase of dead, dried out flowers on the dresser. "Not much time 'til it blooms. Counting down from one-one-three-oh."

"Those are never gonna bloom again, Cordelia said, frowning. "They're former flowers. Nailed to the stem. The flowers are ex."

Faith turned back to her, her eyebrows going up in amusement and a smile quirking at her lips. "Circle of life, babe. Everything old is new again and all that shit." The smile blossomed into a full, lopsided grin so much like Xander's it stopped Cordelia's heart. "Life, death, rebirth. And just plain birth."

Faith leaned forward slowly, still smiling, and took Cordelia's chin in her fingertips, hooking the other hand behind her neck. She kissed Cordelia, slowly, deeply, and sensually. Cordelia went _mrph!_ in her mind, then said the hell with it, and kissed her back, desperately, her arms going around the other girl's neck and her eyes half closing. Faith moaned, pulling back at last with her eyes shining.

"Been wanting to do that for awhile now," Faith whispered. "Damn, but you gave back as good as you got."

"Don't know what got into me," Cordelia said, her voice gone husky.

"My tongue, I'm thinking." Faith winked saucily, and stepped back, digging into a back pocket. "Here," she pulled something out of the pocket and flipped it to Cordelia.

Cordelia caught it out of the air, without thinking. Looked at it.

It was silvery metal, octagonal, with four crossed double ended tridents incised into it. There were twelve jet roundels set into it, three to a segment, at the tips of the tridents at the NW, NE, SE, and SW compass points. There was a loop at the top for a chain or possibly a thong.

"Old guy gave me that," Faith was saying. "Said it'd change my fortunes if I'd let it. Worked so far."

"You should keep this," Cordelia started –

Faith folded Cordelia's fingers over it, shaking her head, eyes still shining. "My fortune's already changed," she said. "You're gonna need it more now. Pay it forward."

Another crack of lightning split the air, making Cordelia jump, startled, her gaze flashing back to the window.

When she turned back, Faith's appearance had changed, her face covered with white clay and streaked diagonally with red ocher. Or maybe blood...

"You think you know what's to come, where you're going," she said. "You have no idea what you are, yet."

"Do you?" Cordelia's eyebrows went up.

Faith shrugged, the mask of clay and blood vanishing as suddenly as it appeared. "Well, yeah. But that'd be telling." She laughed, tossing her head and pushing her hair back from her face with one hand. "You're the One Who Sees, babe. _See_ it."

"Great. Cryptic much?"

Faith laughed again. "And don't let the black knight escape, or the questing beast will get ya."

Cordelia shook her head, frustrated. "So this is a slayer dream or something, huh?"

"You tell me."

Faith brought up her hand and smacked Cordelia in the center of the forehead with her open palm, sending her backwards out the open window, falling endlessly into the night...

"Get that black knight before the hunt gets him, girl," trailed out the window and down after her.

She screamed all the way down, tumbling until she landed against Xander's chest, closed in the warm circle of his arms, and snuggled in and fell deeper into blessedly dreamless sleep.

* * *

Her lips moved, murmuring, "Five-by-five," as she drifted down and out. She worked her way in deeper into the warmth of the arms around her. Xander groaned, smacked his lips, and tightened his grip around her.

"From within you it devours," she grumbled. "Not damn likely... "


	9. Life is a Lemon

**Chapter Seven: Life is a Lemon (And I Want My Money Back!)**

* * *

"_I was married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury." ― _Groucho Marx

* * *

"Hey, there's Gunn and Fred," Xander nudged Cordelia and pointed.

"Quit jabbing me. I see them," she said, nodding, and took off towards the table, skirt snapping at her thighs. Leaving him to catch up, which he did without too much of an extension in his stride.

He grinned, then sobered abruptly. He still remembered more than just bits and pieces of the dream from last night, and the weird conversation in it. And he'd been pondering it off and on, through coffee and shower and toiletries and getting dressed. Not through playful early morning sex, though.

Sex with Cordelia had a way of driving all conscious thought out of his brain. Good thing: being distracted while in the throes of passion with her had been something she'd never readily forgiven, he remembered.

He still hadn't come to any conclusions. Just a vague sense of worry, bordering on panic.

He pulled Cordelia's chair out for her, netting a startled glance and a wide, bright smile, then sat down himself next to her.

"Hey," Gunn nodded to both of them. Fred gave them a bright grin and continued browsing a menu.

"Hey."

"Morning," they got the toothpaste smile from Cordy, genuine article, as she reached for a menu. "Heading back early?"

"Naw." Gunn shrugged. "Well, maybe." Fred shot him an amused look.

"What I've always liked about you – your complete un-ambivalence."

"Hey now, Barbie. Way too early for playing 'improve your word power'."

"Oh, please," Cordelia snorted. "It's going on eleven."

"Which doesn't in any way contradict the early statement," Xander said.

"You're awfully chipper this morning," Fred set the menu down, and gave Cordelia an observant once over.

"Hey, slept deep, early morning, uh... " Cordelia flushed slightly, glancing out of the corner of her eye at a grinning Xander, stuck her tongue out at him, and finished with: "Activities. And a happily impending annulment. What's not to like?"

"Huh. Kinda surprised."

She shot Gunn a sharp look, "At what?"

"Annulment. The two of you seemed awfully... _married_ last night when we called it quits," Gunn said, smirking.

"Actually, the two of you've seemed awfully married ever since we first saw you outside the Bellagio," Fred observed.

"Uh." Cordelia's flush deepened.

"We're not. Trust me," Xander said, rescuing her. She shot him a grateful look. "We've just been acting like an old married couple since the third grade." The grateful look went away.

"We so have not!" Cordelia started, then considered, "Except for when we have, I guess."

Gunn snickered. She gave him a poisonous look.

"You seem to be taking this awful well," Fred said. She eyed him a bit suspiciously.

"Hey. Cordy wants an annulment. What Lola wants, Lola gets," he said, shrugging. Cordelia gave a satisfied nod, browsing her menu. "And, hey – I'm _sure_ I can find much better options."

Fred quickly hid a lip twitch and Gunn had a sudden fit of coughing.

"Oh, yeah, like I'm so _not_ the best thing that could ever happen to you, Jerk!" Cordelia's head whipped around, giving him 'Exorcist' flashbacks. "And if you think you _could_ get rid of me if I wanted to - "

She broke off, suddenly noticing everyone staring at her with deep fascination. "Which I so _don't_, of course," she grumbled, turning back to her menu. "Annulment. Quick."

Fred winked at him and let the grin flash out briefly before hiding it again. He winked back, carefully out of Cordelia's vision. Gunn just shook his head.

"So... " Xander began, casting about for any topic of conversation that didn't have the words 'marriage', 'wife', 'annulment', or 'divorce' in it. "Bogart?"

"Huh?" Fred gave him a startled look, then grinned again. "Oh! Bogie! Yeah."

The waitress came and took their orders, leaving them with full glasses of water and another carafe of coffee.

"Anyway... ?" Xander made a 'by all means' gesture. Even Cordelia looked interested, the huff having apparently blown over.

"So, we was hanging out by the fountain thing at the Bellagio plaza, and we see someone familiar looking off aways," Gunn grinned, "Arguing, natch – "

"With big, expansive gestures," Fred kicked in.

"And Angel looks over and kinda face palms, and sez, 'Of all the cities in all the world, why did _he_ have to show up _here'_?" Gunn snickered. Cordelia shook her head, then burst out laughing.

"Oh gods, Angel and his black and white movies. He must've made me watch Casablanca and Treasure of the Sierra Madre every single time they came on, when he and Wes were using my apartment for an office after ours was blown up."

"And I looked and, naturally, I recognized Cordy," Fred said, gesturing to Cordy, "But not who you were with and said, 'Who? Humphrey Bogart? Well it is Las Vegas, yeah, but isn't he dead?'"

"Which caused another near face palm incident, and then Angel just got this... resigned look and stared up into the sky like he was imploring the Big Guy."

"Or hoping for a bolt of lightning," Xander suggested. "Or possibly a ray of sunshine... "

Cordelia snickered. "I swear. Oil and water, you two," Cordelia said, laughing.

"You're really going to have to tell me what it is between y'all," Fred said.

Xander smirked, "No, I really don't." At her pout, he sighed and relented, making a vague gesture with his hands, "We just never clicked. Hated each other on nearly first sight."

"At first it was big jealousy thing," Cordelia said, and glared at Xander when his mouth opened, "And don't try to say it wasn't, Doof. Xander had a crush on Buffy Summers, and she latched onto Angel with the whole 'tall, dark, mysterious stranger fairy tale love' thing – "

"Said crush which started dying after she used me for a stripper pole at the Bronze to make Angel jealous, and got a stake driven through its heart – "

"So to speak," Cordelia said.

Xander stuck his tongue out at her and continued, "When he lost the soul and started killing people and terrorizing us and she couldn't seem to manage to work up to stopping him – "

"But the being in love with Buffy thing stayed – "

"Oh, please. I love Buffy. I haven't been _in_ love with her since Career Week. And definitely not since just after the love spell thing."

" ... " Cordelia's mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. "Oh."

"There is a difference, you know."

She swatted him on the arm. "I know that, idiot."

They were interrupted by their food arriving, and conversation died briefly while it was served and they started to dig in.

"Anyway, vampire, got the girl yata yata, spent the first half a year we knew him lurking and giving cryptic information but not ever doing anything while we risked our lives, hid in his apartment when Buffy was going to her death, pedophile tendencies, went evil, tried to kill everyone, got sent to hell, came back and still got tons of second chances over and over," Xander smirked. "Gee. What's not to love?"

Cordelia swatted him on the arm.

Fred's mouth was open and her eyes were wide. She shut it with a click.

Gunn frowned, "Ok, now, I'm no expert, but that doesn't sound like the Angel we all know."

"It's not," Cordelia said. "He's changed a lot since then."

"I'm willing to buy that," Xander said. "But we're probably not ever gonna like each other much."

"Because Xander's never been shy about calling Angel on stuff like this to his face," Cordelia said, "and he teases him and cracks wise at Angel's expense and makes fun of him every time he sees him."

"You poke man eating tigers with sticks, too, don't you," Gunn said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, like _you_ so don't too," Cordelia said.

"Well, I've been known to razz Angel a bit, yeah," Gunn allowed. Xander grinned at him. "The Deadboy thing is a classic, though."

"Oh, jeeze," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "_Never_ should have introduced the two of you."

"Yeah, y'all two are going to have to be nicer to Angel," Fred said.

Xander snorted and said, "Never happen" about the same time Gunn looked thoughtful and said, "Naw."

"Men!" Fred crossed her arms and looked exasperated.

"Could be worse, Fred," Cordelia said. "They _are_ men and it's a bonding/friendship thing– if they _really_ hated Angel, they'd just kill him."

"Heh." Xander gave Gunn a suspicious look, "You been showing her the manual?"

"Hey, my copy's safe."

"Oh, like we need a manual to figure you out," Cordelia snickered.

"And I really never forgave Angel over the whole Faith thing," Xander concluded.

"Wait – " Cordelia looked startled. "I thought he saved your life there? And if I'd known about the whole strangulation thing while we were still in high school, I'd have gotten one of Daddy's shotguns and _I'd_ have killed her."

Xander stared at her and she colored slowly, gradually turning red.

"Well, I would have!" Cordelia said – more like, practically growled, "I may have _hated_ you then, but _I'm_ the only one who got to strangle you to death."

"Uh huh."

"Oh, shut up." Cordelia busied herself with her food. Gunn and Fred exchanged smirks.

"And he wiped that out by decking me and leaving me unconscious in the street in the middle of vampire central, at night. When they were doing that sting thing to prove Faith went evil, and no one warned me."

"Oh. Ok, that's pretty life risky... "

"Oh-kay, I'm thinking I'm really glad I didn't grow up in Sunnydale, about now," Fred stated.

Xander nodded seriously. "The town where we were born and razed."

"It takes an idiot to raze a village," Cordelia began.

"And I'm thinking we need to find an idiot with a bulldozer," Xander finished. Cordelia nodded, emphatically.

"Aww. You two are so cute when you do that."

"Oh, we _so_ are not!" Cordelia scowled as Fred nodded seriously and took on an innocent expression. "And don't even _try_ that butter melt thing on me," she paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face, and she turned to Xander. "Wait – do you still have the whole convention thing yet?"

"Nah." Xander shook his head, "Tuesday was the last day – ended not long before we err, bumped heads – "

"Among other things," Gunn said. At Cordelia's glare he added, hastily, "And I'm shutting up now."

Xander grinned, and continued, "And I have the rest of the week off. Supposed to go back Tuesday, like, after the weekend Tuesday."

"Cool," Gunn said. "We're planning to see us some sights and do some shopping for Fred. Maybe we'll bump into you guys."

"Yeah," Fred agreed, nodding enthusiastically. "We'll head back this evening, maybe. Or maybe not." She grinned mischievously.

"Playing hooky will get you taken across the Boss's lap, young lady," Xander said, waggling his finger at her. She giggled.

"Hey, man, he better not." Gunn flashed a quick grin across the table at Xander, then glanced at Cordelia, frowning thoughtfully.

"What? Do I have egg in my teeth?"

"Huh? No. Was just thinking," Gunn said. At her raised eyebrow, he said, "I don't know much about this whole woke up in Vegas married thing, you understand, but... don't be too mad if it's not that quick and simple, 'k?"

"What do you mean?" Cordelia frowned. "People get married and annulled here all the time."

"Like I said, I don't know much of nuthin' about it," Gunn shrugged, "I'm just sayin', is all."

* * *

As they headed up to set off after paying the check, Fred caught Xander's arm and held him back a second.

"You're not _really_ planning to follow through on this annulment thing, are you?" she asked, her eyes searching his face seriously.

"I have no _intention_ of letting that girl get away again," he said.

"Good." She patted his arm, "'Cause I _really_ don't want to have to kick your ass," she said. "Good luck."

He caught up to Cordelia a few minutes later, looking bemused.

"What?"

Taking her arm and tucking it in his, Xander said, "Nothing, dear."

She yanked her arm away and he grinned.

* * *

They were both silent as they stormed out of the Las Vegas City and State government complex. Well, Cordelia stormed. Xander ambled quickly, studying his adversary with wary caution. It was gonna be a long and perilous walk to the parking garage, he figured.

Of course, wariness and caution had never been among Xander Harris' strong suits. Especially not where one Cordelia Chase was concerned.

Maybe if it wasn't just so much damned fun to wind her up and set her off... ? Nah.

"Well, that worked," Xander remarked. "Not."

"Oh, yeah." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Not that you _helped_ any."

"Me!"

"You didn't have to tell her we were already married once and never divorced." Cordelia's glare hit steel furnace intensity.

Naturally, it slid right off. Xander shrugged, easily. "Well, we were."

"Xander... !" She sighed. "We. were. in. the. second. _grade_," she bit out.

"I gave you a ring." His expression went mulish. Detonation in three... two...

"It came out of a gumball machine, Doofus!" She spun on her heel, glaring at him.

"And a ceremony," he added.

"Presided over by Jesse wearing his Christmas play Wise man robes and a white ribbon around his neck – that's _not_ a wedding ceremony!" She practically vibrated in place, stifling a growl.

"You said 'I do'," Xander said, smiling. "And there was a dowry."

"..." Cordelia _did_ growl, then. "Willow's barbie! That you tricked _Jesse_ into _stealing_ for you!" Her foot stamped, an involuntary reflex. "Willow never forgave me for that!"

"She did agree to be flower girl, though."

"Oh, yeah – with your mom's bucket of plastic Christmas poinsettias." Her eyes rolled again.

"And there was a cake."

"Hostess Ding-dongs!" Almost against her will, Cordelia started sniggering helplessly. "Which, I gotta admit, were oh so appropriate, considering who the groom was."

Xander started laughing. "Were, weren't they?"

"Oooohh... !" Cordelia's foot stamped again, and then she started giggling, then laughing herself. "Jerk."

"If your dad hadn't legally separated us... "

"We were _eight_, Pinhead." Cordelia shook her head, still laughing. "He kinda had a point that we weren't ready for cohabitation yet."

"And had to explain what 'cohabitation' meant," Xander said, grinning. "Willow spent the next three months trying to work it into every other sentence." He scowled, "He was wrong though: I _was_ ready to support a family – I had a perfectly fine job."

"You had a _paper route_. That your dad had to drive you on to throw."

"Well... " Xander shrugged, his eyes dancing. "_You_ didn't help either in there."

"Moi?"

"You could have _said_ something when she asked if we were continuing to 'freely cohabit together as husband and wife' after realizing we'd been drunk out of our minds when we married."

"She did not," Cordelia stated. "She said, 'when I realized I'd been mentally impaired at the time'. How was _I_ to know she meant 'drunk senseless'?"

"Well, 'restored from a state of unsound mind', but same diff," Xander said. "We really needed your dad there to explain the big words, huh?"

"Hah. Like _that_ was gonna happen." Considering that Cordelia's father was currently a guest in a Federal tax evaders resort facility, no chance of _him_ showing up to give her away. Or help. Besides which, he'd always _liked_ Xander. Oooh. "Besides... I _did_ tell her that I was unsound when we married. I did!"

"I'm remembering that a heartfelt declaration to the effect that 'I'd _have_ to be _insane_ to marry _him_!' didn't seem to qualify, for some reason," Xander remarked, "Although she did seem sympathetic."

"I'm not talking to you anymore."

"Heh. And your eyes glazing over and you getting that deer-in-the-headlights thousand yard stare when she said 'cohabit' didn't help none, neither," Xander said, smirking. "And your relapsing when she asked if we'd consummated... "

"Oooohh... !"

Tossing her hair angrily, Cordelia set off down the sidewalk away from the Las Vegas Municipal building at her best rapid pace. After a moment of being caught leaning, Xander caught up and matched strides with her easily, falling comfortably into place beside her, hands in his pockets.

"Six weeks!" she said angrily, after several minutes.

"Residency requirements, yup," Xander agreed.

"I _can't_ live in Nevada for six weeks!"

"Me either," Xander said, agreeably. "I have a job in California. And I need the income to support my wife."

"Oooohhh... !" Cordelia belted him in the arm, smirking at the pained, 'ow!'. "You deserved that, jerk."

"Me!"

"You." Cordelia glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "You'd almost think you didn't _want_ to get annulled."

"Huh." Xander carefully put his expression into neutral. "Completely ridiculous. How dare you say such a thing to me."

Her eyes narrowing, Cordelia studied him suspiciously. She rolled her eyes, tossing her head, "Oh, yeah. _That_ sounded convincing."

"I should work on my delivery, huh."

"Only if you want to live until morning, dear."

* * *

"I'm kind of surprised that Willow hasn't been calling you every five minutes since your convention ended. Or Buffy," Cordelia said.

"I'm not," Xander shrugged.

They were sitting at an Italian place near a view overlooking the Vegas lights, having pasta and seafood with Gunn and Fred, in the early evening not long before dark.

They'd gone shopping for awhile after the frustration (for Cordy, not him) of their less than fruitful trip through Government land and Cordy was wearing the results. Cordy had needed the retail therapy, and Xander really hadn't minded seeing her model things for him.

She had on sort of dark blue-gray thing that he wasn't even sure how to describe except with 'hubba hubba', that was sleeveless and a third of the way down her impressive bust, showing lots of cleavage, tied at one side of her leg ninety percent of the way up that thigh and slanting down to a bit over halfway above the knee on the other side, with a long skirt like section in back. Some sort of shiny soft fabric. And matching color over the knee height high heeled boots. Yowza. The things those heels did for her calves...

Xander had switched to his other suit, the gray three piece that almost matched the color of her dress, and a pale, very pale blue shirt. He thought they made a pretty nice looking couple.

Judging from the way eyes, male and female, had followed them through the restaurant and concourse and the wolf-whistle Fred had let out on seeing them, so did other people.

"Oh?" Cordelia's eyebrow went up, yanking him back to the conversation. "I seem to recall that they never could leave you be for five minutes with your girlfriend back when we were in high school. _Especially_ Willow."

"Always hated that with my high school and college friends," Fred remarked. Cordelia nodded.

"'Telling you, things have changed since then," Xander said. "Everyone's grown apart a bit, and everyone's wrapped up with their own concerns. Especially Willow with her magic and her breakup with Tara, and Buffy with Dawn." And Spike, he added mentally, but didn't say. He shrugged, "I'm not sure they even know I have a job. Even though Buffy's burger income doesn't begin to cover things, and neither does Willow's stipend from her folks. I think they just figure money just magically appears to help cover the shortfall."

"Hard to believe," Cordelia said. "I know Buffy, and I can't believe that she never notices fresh money in her account."

Gunn shook his head, "Ok, now that's kinda hard to figure. How you manage that trick?"

"Simple," Xander smirked. "I hand it to Dawn after she looks at the bills, and she slips it into Buffy's little lock box for the mortgage and bill money."

"Oh, that's tricky," Fred said, approvingly.

"Heh. Oh, now that's just wrong. Most little sis's are trying to sneak money _out _of mom's purse, not in."

"Hey, Dawn's a good kid," Xander said. "A bit of a problem with the shoplifting thing – and she _really_ shouldn't know how to pick locks at her age, even chintzy ones – but reasonably sharp."

"Yeah," Cordelia nodded. "Dawn always had a good head on her shoulders for a brat."

"You just say that because she always idolized you and soaked up your fashion and makeover tips, and tormenting boys tips like they were Gospel."

"Like I said: good head on her shoulders," Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him, smirking. "Who else was she going to ask? Buffy?"

Xander laughed, and winked back at her. "Anyway, unless there's a Dawn crisis, or a nerd crisis, or an apocalypse, they probably won't notice I'm missing for another week."

Cordelia studied him for a minute, then shook her head.

"What?"

She gave him the bright Pepsodent smile, "Nothing, dear." She frowned, then: "Wait, nerd crisis?"

"Yeah, the Trio of Doom? The Legion of Dorkness?" Xander frowned, "I didn't tell you about them?"

"No, not unless it's lost in the drunken fog of the other night," she said, scowling. "So, spill."

Gunn and Fred looked intrigued, also. Xander shrugged, "Ok. So, Jonathan, Andrew Wells, and Warren Mears – you know, he of the robot girlfriend?"

Cordelia looked blank, so he explained the sad tale of Warren and April, and the Buffy-bot.

"Eww." Cordelia shook her head, apparently trying to shake out the images. "Just... ick."

"Ok, that's just plain _wrong_," Gunn said.

"You are not wrong," Xander said. He looked quizzically at Cordelia. "Man, I was sure you knew about that."

"No. Ok, saw the 'Bot when we were there briefly after Buffy's death, but no one explained the whole story. Which, probably of the good, or Spike would have been dust in the wind once Angel caught up to him."

"Or of the bad. Spike? Dusty? Made of win in my book." He shrugged, continued: "Ok, so these three twerps decide to become super-villains and do the whole Pinky and the Brain bit, only without the panache. And it went from icky to worse until it ended up in them killing a girl and trying to pin it on Buffy."

"Wait," Cordelia held her hand up, palm out. "Stop. Andrew Welles? Tucker's weird little brother? And Jonathan? As in – "

"Jonathan Levinson, right. And Andrew as in Ole Hellhound Tucker's brother, yup."

"Jeeze."

"Yeah," Xander shook his head, noticed that Fred was listening with fascination and an almost Willow-like gleam in her eye. "And the sad thing is, hey: freeze rays, invisibility... hell, not to add to the ick-factor, but the whole robot girlfriend and robot sex-toy thing? If all they wanted was lots of money, hell: they could market that stuff and make _billions_."

Gunn still looked ill, but he nodded, "Shit yeah. Sick, yeah, but hell – lotsa guys out there'd pay _big_ bucks."

"Oh, please. What – every guy's dream?" Cordelia said, with a snort of disgust, "A programmable girlfriend?"

"Well, not _every_ guy, maybe," Gunn said, shrugging. He looked at Xander. "Obviously."

"Hey, they're right, Cordy," Fred stated. "Oh – on the not every guy thing, too, but also on the huge money."

"Yeah. Just... eww, squick."

"You are not wrong," Xander said, nodding. "But apparently, money's not the real draw there."

"Super villains." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Now I've heard everything."

"It's been a really bizarre year, even for the Hellmouth," Xander said.

"Yeah, our end too," Gunn said.

"So... since we seem to have hit a dead end here, head back tonight?" Xander asked, looking at Cordelia.

"May as well, I suppose," Cordelia said, grousing. "Until we can tackle this from a different end."

"Not gonna say I said, but... " Gunn grinned at her.

Xander carefully kept any hint of a smirk or grin out of his expression. After going to every State, County, and Local office even remotely involved with marriage before close of business today, with no joy; Cordy would probably just take the easy way out and murder him. It didn't help that Fred wasn't even pretending to be unhappy and commiserate with her, and she was already pissed off at the slender Texan for the lack of female solidarity.

He glanced up at Fred and caught a surreptitious wink, then back to the conversation. Gunn was saying, "Ok, well, if you really want to dissolve it – I do know that you can get a quickie divorce here pretty easy."

"No!"

Everyone stared at Cordelia's outburst, and she flushed. "I mean... " She shook her head, "No. Daddy had two divorces, counting the one Mother laid on him when his tax mess hit. Grandfather had, god, five I think. And my Grandmother – six."

"Not that uncommon," Fred said, looking puzzled.

"Not for me," Cordelia said. "_Not_ a family tradition I want to keep. No. I am not going to start my life as a legal adult by celebrating it with a quickie divorce."

"Yeah," Fred said, nodding enthusiastically. "Because a drunken marriage in Vegas is _so_ much of a _better _way to embark on a career as a legal adult."

Open mouth. Flat glare.

Gunn looked at his girlfriend in sheer, dismayed, open mouthed amazement, then looked at Cordelia, and carefully began edging his chair farther away.

"I can't _believe_ you just said that," Cordelia finally managed.

"Oh, _please_," Fred said, smiling sweetly. "Either you really _want_ to end this marriage as quickly as possible, like you say. Or you _don't_, and you're just yanking Xander's chain and enjoying making him squirm. Which isn't very nice."

Xander gulped, averted his eyes from the oncoming train-wreck, and followed Gunn in edging his chair away from Ground Zero.

"Oh... ?" Cordelia said, quietly and dangerously.

Fred looked to the side and saw the growing distance between her and Gunn and Xander. She rolled her eyes. "Jeeze. Relax, guys. Cordy's not gonna hurt me. She _likes_ people who're blunt, honest, and straightforward."

Xander shook his head slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves that might trigger an attack.

'_Too late,_' Still Small piped up, cheerfully. '_No way you'll get off that easy. You're already in the blast radius._'

Don't be so cheerful, pal. She goes off, and you die with me.

'_Oh. Crap._'

"No, Fred," Xander said, carefully. "_Cordy_ likes being blunt, honest, and straightforward. To _other_ people." He took a deep breath, "She _hates_ it when people do it to her."

"Oh, I _so_ do _not_!"

Too late. Danger, Will Robinson! Cordelia pinned him with a glare, then after a moment, her lips started twitching. "Ok, so, maybe I don't _always_ deal with it as gracefully as I could."

She stood casually, tossing her napkin on the table and threw Fred her best Beauty Queen smile. "I need to powder my nose," she said.

Pushing her chair back, Fred matched the smile. "Me too. I think I'll join you."

They headed off towards the restrooms. Or maybe, stalked off. Together.

Xander looked at Gunn, and carefully moved his chair back up to the table. Gunn looked at him and did the same. Xander caught the eye of a waitress and flagged her.

"I think I need a drink, suddenly."

"Me too. Pshew!" Gunn wiped his forehead with a dramatic motion, and held his other hand up, forefinger and thumb pressed tightly together. "Missed us by _that_ much," he said.


	10. On a Long and Lonesome Highway

**Chapter Eight: On a Long and Lonesome Highway **_(__In which they have a long talk on the drive to L.A. ...)_

* * *

"_It's the perfect solution. We argue all the time. We can't stand each other. It's like we're __already_ _married."_ ― Leo Hathaway to Cat – (Lisa Kleypas, _Married By Morning_)

* * *

Cordelia had been somewhat quiet and relatively subdued for the rest of the meal, at least until coffee and after dinner drinks and dessert. At least, he thought that was what 'subdued' looked like on Cordy – he'd never seen it applied to her very often. And a bit thoughtful.

He was glad. Somehow, he seemed to have managed to get the slender Texas brunette in his corner, he wasn't sure how, and he liked her with her head and all of her limbs attached. Cordelia too, for that matter, or else he wouldn't have braved fire to save her from the teen-age Franken Cheerleader makers back in the eleventh grade.

He watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye, periodically catching her studying Fred with a thoughtful expression. Fred, of course, chattered brightly away, apparently completely oblivious.

Xander didn't buy it for a second. That girl was as dangerous as rattlesnake.

Fred, not Cordy.

Although Cordy could qualify as well, maybe on the coral snake level, when she was of a mind. Or a green mamba. Something lethal and beautiful, anyway.

He shrugged, tuning back into the conversation, and took a sip of his brandy before saying, "Dunno. I have the room until noon checkout tomorrow. But we may as well get back before Angel has a hissy cow."

Snort. "Angel doesn't have hissy cows," Cordelia said.

"Sure seemed to be having one last night," Xander said, grinning.

"He was just surprised."

"Boy, was _he_ ever surprised," Gunn said, grinning. Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him, apparently back to normal.

"Too bad," Fred said, sighing a bit. "This has been loads of fun."

"Yeah, always liked Vegas, what little I've seen of it," Gunn said.

"You've been here before?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "Do tell. Thought you were L.A. born and bred."

"Hey, man of the world, here," Gunn said, grinning. "Well, there was the trip when I got involved with the soul sucking casino owner," he said, "but the first time we were seventeen and me and Rondell borrowed my gran's car and took a weekend trip up, just because."

"Male rite of passage thing?" Xander asked, smirking.

"Hey now," Gunn said, "Not in front of the ladies here."

Snort. "Oh yeah, like we're such delicate flowers," Cordelia said, laughing.

Fred nodded. "Uh huh. We know all about that sort of thing. When I was growing up in Texas, it still wasn't unusual for guys dad's to take them to a local house for their first... experience."

"Fred!" Gunn's eyes went wide. "I am shocked, shocked I tell you."

"And there's gambling at Rick's, too. Yeah, Granddad did that with my dad and Uncles Rory and Dave when they were teenagers," Xander said. "To Reno, matter of fact."

"Did your dad carry on the tradition?" Gunn asked, curious.

"No, thank god." Xander blanched. "Getting 'The _Talk_' from my dad after he noticed me noticing that the girl across the street was a lot more interesting in her bikini that she was the summer before, was bad enough."

Cordelia snorted again, "No, nothing like that. Xander lost it to Faith after we'd broken up, in a shabby motel room."

"Wait, you kept track of your ex-boyfriend's dating and experiences after you broke up?"

Fred and Cordelia looked at each other, nodded, turned back and said, "Well, duh!" in unison.

"It's a girl thing, Gunn," Xander said.

"Oh, please," Cordelia said, smirking. "Don't _even_ tell me you guys don't do it too."

"Of course they do." Fred scowled thoughtfully. "Wait – Faith? The evil slayer we heard of? That Angel visits in prison?"

Xander and Cordelia looked at each other, opened their mouths, closed them. Xander made a 'you started it' gesture to Cordelia, and she scowled.

"Yeah. But she wasn't evil then, I guess," Cordelia said. "To be fair. She was one of us for a long time. And she could be lots of fun."

"I'll say," Xander said. Cordelia swatted him, and he grinned at her. "It was a thing. And I won't say anything bad, because as first times go, it was something else. If she hadn't kicked me out in my underwear immediately after... "

Cordelia's jaw dropped. "I never heard that part. That skank."

"Hey, now," Xander said. "What happened to 'to be fair'?"

"I am being fair," Cordelia said, then scowled. "Ok, maybe not. But still."

"I like to think of the night before you started off to L.A. as my first time, really."

Cordelia stared at him, then broke out in a huge smile. "And of _course_ you're just saying that, but still... "

"Anyway," Gunn said, grinning at them, "My lips are sealed on the whole thing. But, man, did I get my butt whooped when we got back."

"But it was fun though, huh?" Fred said, laughing. She frowned at Xander, "But I got the impression from Cordy, and from listening to the two of you, that you were kind of... "

"A complete and _total_ loser with the opposite sex who only barely managed to luck into something with Cordy even though she was way outta my league?" Xander waggled his eyebrows at her, grinning.

"Well, yeah!"

"Well, yeah. That pretty well sums me up."

Cordelia rolled her eyes, and sighed. "Actually, if he'd had any _reasonable_ fragment of dress sense or taste or cool, Xander could probably have been a real ladies man in junior high and high school."

"There was almost a compliment in there somewhere, I'm sure of it... "

"Oh, please," she swatted him. "I wasn't the only girl leaving a puddle of drool over you with that speedo on in swim tryouts. And you dated Aura in the seventh grade – "

"Until she dumped me for Roger Penser right before spring formal."

"Her loss," Fred said, giggling. "Did she ever _see_ you formal dance?"

"And you went steady with Amy in eighth grade for a couple of months – "

"Until she dumped me for Jonathan, and then him for Jesse."

"And that Ampata girl was very pretty and pretty hot on you – "

"Until she tried to suck my life out through my tonsils."

By this point, both Gunn and Fred were having issues staying in their chairs from laughing so hard.

"Man. Any girls you ever know that _didn't_ try to kill you?" Gunn asked.

"Lessee," Cordelia started ticking off on her fingers, "Not sure about Amy, but Aura almost ran him over once– "

"Accident."

"Suuurrree," Cordelia said. "It's important that _you _believe that. And then Preying Mantis Demon substitute teacher, and then Ampata, the mummy girl exchange student, and Drusilla got that crush on you and wanted to take you home with her, and Faith, and of course, Anya – "

"Wait, Anya?" Xander shook his head, "but – "

"She got me to make that wish that landed us all in the alternate universe where you and Willow got vamped."

"Oh. Right."

"I think me and Willow are the only ones who ever got involved with you who _didn't _try to end your life," she concluded.

"And Amy," Xander said, reminding her. "Wait, Wish, too."

"Oh. Right. And Amy? Love Spell. She tried to kill you _and_ me because she couldn't have you. So did Buffy's mom."

"Oh, right. Sigh. Love spell: Willow too, at Buffy's house, with an axe. Clean sweep, then."

"Wait – Buffy's _mom_?" Fred was gasping for breath, trying to gasp in enough air to either breathe or keep laughing.

"Just about every woman in town was trying to kiss him and _then _kill him that night except me, and I was considering it seriously."

"Stop. Please, stop," Gunn held his hands up, palm out. "Can't breathe." He drew in a deep, ragged breath, let it out slowly as Cordelia grinned at him. "Ok. Better." He looked at Xander and shook his head, "Man. Have you ever considered a monastery?"

"Why yes, as a matter of fact," Xander said, spluttering and wheezing himself. "But burlap makes me itch."

"Might be safer for you," Fred said, wiping her eyes. "Good lord."

"I'm like a male black widow spider," Xander said, shrugging. "Every woman who mates with me wants to finish up by killing me instead of just rolling over and having a cigarette." Cordelia winked at him, and grinned.

"No – !" Fred said, "Don't start again! I just caught my breath."

Xander grinned, and looked over the remnants of dessert. Draining the last of his coffee, he said, "Ok, well, if we're gonna do this... I need a trip to the little hyena's room first." He stood, dropping his napkin on the table.

"I'll get the check," Xander said. "Caravan out, after we clear our room and get our luggage?"

As he started away from the table, Cordelia raised an eyebrow and said quietly, "We _really_ need to talk on the way back."

* * *

For all of the assertions that they _really_ needed to talk, the white lines rolled under the front of the Chevy for a long quiet while before either of them said anything. Cordelia fiddled with the stereo for awhile, humming along with the occasional song she liked, then, finally, turned the volume way down to a conversational level.

Oooh. Paradise by the Dashboard Lights. How... appropriate.

Turning to Xander with every outward appearance of casual indifference, she noticed him watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Geez. Watch the highway, Goof."

"I am."

She took a deep breath, and held it, pushing her breasts out, "_These_ are not highway."

"_Vast_ tracts of land," he intoned, solemnly. "I can see my confusion. Just paint some white lines..."

Glare. "God. Is sex _all_ you think about?"

"Naw. I also think about food." His lips twitched at the corners, "Right now I'm thinking I should have gone before we left the hotel."

Eye roll. "I _told_ you to go at the last rest stop."

"Are we there yet?"

"Don't _make_ me stop this truck and come over there... "

They exchanged grins and glances. "So... " he began.

"So," she replied.

"Hey, that's my line."

"Were you going someplace with that? Or just letting the air out of your head?" she said, archly.

"Manfully, he resisted the temptation... " he said, smirking. "Ok. So – you live at this hotel of Angel's?

"No. I have an apartment."

"You can afford an apartment in L.A.?" Xander shook his head, bemused. "What's wrong with it?"

"Hey! Don't sound so amazed." Rolling her eyes, she stated, "It's rent controlled."

"Rent controlled? How'dja manage that?"

"It has a ghost."

"A ghost? _You_ have a haunted apartment?" Xander started laughing. "You can take the girl out of Sunnydale... "

"Oh, shut up." Looking pained, she told him, archly, "He's a very nice ghost. His name is Dennis."

"Dennis," Xander said, carefully, as if trying out the sound. "You named your ghost? Maybe I should name my ghosts, too. Spot, Rover, Puddles... "

"Oh, shut up." Cordelia's lips twitched and her eyes flicked over to him. "Puddles?"

"One of my ghosts has... issues," he said, in a perfect deadpan.

"It's a _Sunnydale_ ghost. Of _course_ it has issues," she shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. "Why are we talking about ghosts, again?"

"You started it."

"I so did not!"

"Yes you did."

"I did no– !" She cut off abruptly. "Jeeze. You always do this. It's like we're six again, every time you see me."

"I'm deeply in touch with my inner child." He paused, looking thoughtful, "Once, I bad touched my inner child."

"Eww!" Thumping him on the arm, she gave him a disgusted look. "You would."

"He reported me to inner child services. It was a bad scene. There was therapy involved."

"Grrrf." Crossing her arms, she thumped back in her seat. "I'm not talking to you any more."

"Promises, promises."

Grinning, she tossed her hair at him. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Sighing, she stated, "You turn _everything_ into a joke."

"Especially jokes." At her glare, he lifted one hand from the wheel, palm out. "Ok. I'll be serious. What did you _want_ to talk about?"

"What... ?" Exasperated, she turned more towards him, eyes flashing, one hand waving at him. "This! Dammit."

"This?"

"_This!_ You got me drunk and married me!"

"I did not!"

"Yes you did!"

"Oh no. I'm not letting you start _that_ again. My inner child still has a restraining order." He smirked, added, "You got _me_ drunk and married me."

"I... !" Cordelia spluttered, her eyes wide, then closed her mouth with an effort. "I. Did. Not." Glared at him, "_You_ did it to me."

"Why yes, repeatedly. With sound effects." A slow smile spread across his face, "You were enthusiastic, even."

Xander had never actually _seen_ sparks flash from someone's eyes before, until now. He'd always thought it was a figure of speech. She opened her mouth, angrily, leaning forward. Paused. Her lips started twitching at the corners.

"Huh. I was kinda, wasn't I?" She tossed her head, smirking. "That has _nothing_ to do with this."

"I beg to differ."

"I like it when you beg. But that's besides the point." She frowned, "That was _sex_. This is _marriage_."

"Love and marriage, love and marriage... " He cut off abruptly at the look she gave him.

"I will hurt you badly, Al." She shook her fist at him.

"Fine." His lips curled up at the corners, "So. Mawiagge."

"If you start doing the entire scene, I will scream," she warned.

"I like it when you scream."

"And _then_ I'll make you mostly dead."

Sigh. He made an off hand flowing gesture, "As you wish." She folded her arms and thumped back in her seat.

Sigh. "Fine." Cordelia ignored him, glaring out the windshield. "Ok, ok, I give. So. We're married," Xander shrugged. "I'm not seeing the problem here."

Her head snapped around to him so fast he feared whiplash, eyes smoking. Her mouth worked for several moments before sounds actually came out.

"Not seeing the... " Cordelia made an inarticulate noise, hands going up to the hair at her temples. "Xander... we've been broken up for _four years_."

"Three years, three months, twenty-nine days, twenty three hours, " he glanced at the dashboard clock, "And fifty seven minutes."

Cordelia did the wordless mouth movement thing again, for a bit. Finally, she spluttered, stopped, started again. "You _counted_?"

"Naw. Just made that up, actually. But it _sounded _convincing."

"Aurrrggghhh!" She closed her eyes, tightly, breathed deeply for several moments. "_Let__'__s_. Try. This. Again." She took another deep breath, "We've been broken up for _almost_ four years now."

"You say 'broken up'. I prefer to think of it as 'on hiatus'," he stated, gesturing. "A hiatus where we hated each other and had sex with other people, but a hiatus nonetheless."

"It was not a hiatus!"

He gave her a skeptical look, "Well, considering the first thing we did on seeing each other again was have wild, hot passionate monkey sex and get married," Xander said in a patient tone, "I'm thinking 'yes'." He frowned, "I think there was even a janitor's closet on the mezzanine involved, too."

She started to say something, then paused and her eyes widened. "There was?"

Nodding, "And a glass elevator."

"Oh, god." Cordelia squeezed her eyes tightly shut, clenching her fists. "We _really_ had _sex_ on a glass elevator?!"

"In, actually." She glared at him, "And since I gather that's not helping... Moving right along here..."

She shook her head, looking as though she was contemplating pounding it on the dashboard. "There was applause. And cheering," he added, helpfully.

"This is not happening," Cordelia stated. "It just gets worse and worse the more that comes back to mind."

"Oh, gee, thanks. My ego is secure now," he said. She glared. "And I'm shutting up now."

"That. Is. _Not_. What. I. Meant." She bit out. Taking a deep breath again, she started, "I am not sure where this conversation left the road, but I will try again. We can _not_ be married!"

"I beg to differ. We have rings and paper that says otherwise."

Sighing, she tried another tack. "What will Buffy think?"

"She's screwing Spike. Who cares?"

"Okaayyy... What will your former fiancée think?"

"She's an ex-demon. And she's having sex with Spike. Who cares?"

"Uh." Cordelia shook her head. "Brain bleach, much? What would _Willow_ think?"

"She's addicted to magic. And a lesbian. And probably having sex with Spike. Who cares?"

"I'm pretty sure that b) and c) are mutually exclusive."

"In _Sunnydale_?" Xander gave her an incredulous look. "Wouldn't bet on it."

"Ok, point."

Xander smirked. "Seriously, Cordy. I quit worrying about what Buffy and Willow thought about my love life in high school." He paused a moment, "Ok, after high school."

"Right about the time you started having wild monkey sex with Demon Girl, huh?"

He gave her his best 'wide eyed, shocked, incredulous' expression. "Why, Mrs. Harris – I can't believe you would say such a thing!" He shook his head, "After wild monkey sex with Faith, actually."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, brother."

"More brain bleach?"

"Why, yes, thank you."

"Was right about the time that Willow had a major 'I'm all devastated and you're a monster how could you you beast' crying jag about me and Faith – _after _she'd dumped the whole Fluke responsibility thing on me afterwards." Xander shrugged, "Importance of Willow's opinions on my love life kinda took a nose dive, suddenly."

"Gasp," Cordelia said. "You mean you quit playing the whole 'Willow and Buffy's love life is off limits but yours is fair game' game? Gee, you've got some nerve, mister."

"I know. I'm a horrible person."

"You really are." Cordelia settled herself more comfortably into the seat. "Not that sex-with-Faith puts you in the running for Man of the Year or anything."

"Neener neener. You're just jealous."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, you did _not_ just say that! Am not."

"Are too."

"I _so_ am not."

"So are."

"Are not!"

"Are too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Stop that!" Cordelia smacked him on the arm. Hard. "Jeeze. What are you, twelve?"

"_You_ started it."

"I so did not!"

"Did too."

"Di– " She bit off in mid syllable, glaring. "We are _so_ not going there again."

"Almost had you going, though." Xander smirked, unrepentant.

"I'm not talking to you any more."

"Or any less."

"I _so_ can't wait to get this annulled."

"Yeah... " Xander trailed off, looking thoughtful. "Why?"

"Huh?" Cordelia gave him an incredulous look, "What do you _mean_, why?"

"Simple word, three letters. Why?" He took his eyes from the road long enough to give her a serious look.

"Because! Because... " Her mind apparently went into brain lock for a moment, leaving her mouth hanging open. She shut it with a snap. "Because we can't, that's why!"

"Gee. I'm so glad we cleared that up. I fail in the face of your eloquence."

"Oh, shut up." She glared at him. "Doofus."

"Tramp."

"Dweeb."

"Harpy."

"Lamoid."

"Tramp."

"Hey! You said 'tramp' already."

"You got drunk and fell into marriage with the first guy that came along. It bears emphasis."

"I did not!" If looks could incinerate, he'd vanish in a puff of brimstone about now. "Except for the part where I kinda _did_, but that's beside the point."

"Which is the kind of logic that, well, isn't," he smirked again.

"Oh, shut up. Dork." She glared out of the corner of her eye and said, "_You_ somehow got Fred on your side on this, didn't you."

"No." Xander noted her skeptical glance and said, "Seriously, no. Don't know how Fred got on this train, but I never even talked to her on it."

"Sure," she shook her head, huffed at him.

"Seriously, Cordy," Xander's eyes were intense as he flicked his gaze toward her. "What would be so unthinkably horrible about it? The 'us staying married' it?"

"But... " Her mind apparently went into vapor lock again.

"Seriously. What's the worst that could happen," Xander said, snickering. "It's not like I could leave you at the altar at this point."

"True. And you just cursed us."

"Only works on the Hellmouth." His lips twitched upwards at the corners. "Or were you about to marry tall, dark, and Groosalugsome before I happened?"

"Huh? Wha– no!"

"Ah. Just using him for the wild monkey Groosa-love, then."

"Huh? No, I was no- " She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and counted to ten. And added twenty for good measure. "Groo has _nothing_ to do with it," she said, with great dignity.

"Uh huh. So you're pining hopelessly for Captain Hairgel, then?"

"Oh, right– _What_?" She boggled at him. "Angel? Me? What?"

"You know. Tall, dark, mysterious. All the girls have a thing for him. You drooled all over him that one Halloween? Working in close proximity, all deep gazes and hot, well... _cold_ sweaty exertion in the evil fighting trenches – it's understandable."

"I do no– " Cordelia took a deeper breath, closed her eyes, gave it a thirty count this time. Opened her eyes in her frosty-est glare. "I. Do. Not. Have. A. Thing. For. Angel," she said, through gritted teeth. "There is no thing."

"Angel has no thing?" He went wide eyed and incredulous. "That's not what _Buffy_ said– "

"I do NOT have a _thing_ for Angel!" Startled birds took flight in distant counties. In Oregon.

He winced, wiggled a finger in his ear to clear it, and watched out of the corner of his eye as she drew in a deep breath and visibly counted to ten. "Ah. Cool. 'Cause, you know: Angel, sex equals soul lossage and badness... "

"I am _not_ pining for Angel! You... you... you... " She spluttered. "Cretin."

"Hey," he shook his head. "I don't care what happened _before_ we got married, y'know? I'm easy."

Nuclear winter wore a warmer expression. "Just. Let. It. Go."

"Ok, then, if it's not Groo-some, and it's not Angel, I'm without clue." He shrugged. "I'm still waiting," he shot her an expectant look.

"Oh for... " She glared helplessly at him. "Xander... why in the world would you possibly _want_ to stay married to me?"

He was quiet for a long period of time.

"Well?"

"I'm thinking. I'm thinking." He shook his head, ruefully. "I got nothing."

"You... !" Cordelia let out her breath in an exasperated huff, followed by an outright growl when she caught the ghost of a grin on his lips. She crossed her arms under her breasts and glared out the window. "Skinned alive, dismembered, boiled in oil... "

"You say the sweetest things, dear."

"I'll 'dear' you. Stuffed and over the mantle... " Shaking her head, she wrenched the conversation back to where she'd headed it, with a dismal feeling it was destined to veer off the rails regardless. "Seriously, Xander. Just answer the question. Give me a good reason – _any_ good reason – why you'd want to marry me?"

"You're gorgeous, smart, funny, one of the bravest women – no – _people_ I've ever known, brutally honest, gorgeous, and incredibly cute when you wrinkle your nose like that."

"You said gorgeous twice."

"And you're fairly adequate in the sack."

"Adequate – !"

"And, dear God – if you could only see those tits from a male perspective. Works of art. Momma Mia!"

_That_ glare was of paint melting intensity. Good job, hero. Xander very carefully kept the smirk hidden and out of his voice.

"_Fleets_ have been launched by tits like those," he mused. "Nations have crumbled... "

"Shut. Up." The glare muted to a thoughtful look. "You've changed. You _never_ would have had the nerve to say stuff like that when we were dating."

"Three years with Anya, Demon Queen of the Inappropriate Commentary. The inhibitions are the first thing to go."

"I can tell." She grinned.

"And," Xander continued, "You're one of the very few people that knows me inside and out, from kindergarten, and still likes me. I can blurt my mind to you, and you'll just go eww, roll your eyes, and carry on."

"Don't be so sure." She snorted. "And I do _not_ like you. As if!"

"Do too."

"Do– Oh no you don't."

"Almost got you. Neener."

Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him, then sighed heavily. "Xander... I treated you like frozen _crap_ when we broke up."

"No, really?"

"As a matter of fact, I treated you like crap from the third grade on."

"Uh huh."

"I called you every lousy name I could think of."

"You did that thing."

"I threw private dirt about your family and stuff in your face in front of our other friends."

"Yup, yup."

"Oh for... you're hopeless." She re-crossed her arms and bounced in her seat angrily.

"And you guys help the hopeless, right?"

"You're beyond help." She cut her eyes sideways at him, "I said '_good_ reasons'."

"We have chemistry."

"So does sodium and water."

"We make sparks together."

"We fight like cats and dogs."

"But the make up make up make-out sessions are _incredible_."

"And... huh." She went into apparent brain melt again, rebooted. "They really are, aren't they?"

"Ohhhh yeah."

Cordelia eyed him speculatively. "There's more to life than fighting and seriously hot make up sessions."

"Like what?" He shot her a molten look from those deep brown eyes.

"Uh... " Brain freeze. "Ummm."

Still Small gave a mental smirk in Xander's mind. '_Stop that, Cordy. He'll _never_ believe you if you keep going into vapor lock._'

Xander smirked. "You got nothing."

Glare. "I do so. Umm." Cordelia met the intensifying smirk with a withering look. "Like, making a home. Building a life together. And... stuff."

Another eyebrow waggle. "Me good catch. Me assistant junior vice president. Me have new truck. Nice cave."

"Oh. Right. Like _that_ matters. You'd think I was materialistic or something."

This time, the look she got was frankly disbelieving. Sigh. "Ok, you got me there. Dammit."

"I'll be magnanimous in my victory." Xander paused, "And we know each other better than anyone else ever could – good and bad."

"Aha! And that should be great reasons to run like hell – _away_ from each other."

"Which would be why you fell onto my lips and into the Elvis Presley Chapel of Lurve and Matrimony with me. That whole running away thing."

"I – err. Dammit. I was drunk." Her mouth quirked wryly, and she rolled her eyes. "Ok, got me there, too."

"And, we're definitely sexually compatible," he met her raised eyebrow with a smug look. "You think I'm a Viking in the sack."

"Hah! You _wish_, Buster!"

Xander pitched his voice to a high, girlish falsetto, "Oh god! Oh god – Yes! Give it to me, Nighthawk!"

Cordelia's eyes narrowed to slits. "I did _not_ say that."

"Screamed it, actually."

"You _wish_."

"Oh! Oh! Yes! Yes! Slam it, Hyena boy! Oh god yes!" That was a decidedly... _interesting_ shade of violet-red Cordelia was turning, he decided.

She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and thumped her head back into the headrest. "You _said_ you didn't remember that part."

"Bits and pieces are coming back, slowly." He snickered. "Besides, _those_ were from the morning after, when we were sober."

"This is a nightmare. I really must wake up sometime." Cordelia cracked open an eye just enough to glare at him. "And if you smirk even a _little_ bit, Geek-boy... "

He carefully kept himself one-hundred and ten percent smirk free. Well... ninety-eight percent, anyway.

"I'm _still_ not hearing a good reason." Her arms folded across her chest, and her chin went up defiantly.

"Because I never quit being in love with you," Xander said, quietly.

Cordelia opened her mouth and froze there, gaping at him. She closed it finally, started to speak several times, cleared her throat. Then, "You never ever said you were in love with me."

"I was going to," he said, sighing, "And then there was Willow kissage and falling and re-bar. It seemed the moment had passed."

"Heh. Ya think?"

"Besides which, you wouldn't answer my calls."

"Of course not. You cheated on me. With _Willow_."

"It was the 'with Willow' thing that was the deal breaker, huh."

"Gee, ya think?"

"Uh... sorry?" The withering look suggested that was a no go there. Looked like a job for Puppy Dog Eyes.

She looked away from him, shifting uncomfortably. "I was just about going to tell you I thought I loved you. After Homecoming. And then... "

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"Well, crap."

"Well put, Nighthawk." She glared, then snickered abruptly. "Timing is everything, huh?"

"Oh, you bet. Definitely." He waggled his eyebrows, "At least we had make up sex before you left for L.A."

"Oh, right, way to home in on the important thing there."

"In my defense: gorgeous Cordy, incredible tits, male, eighteen, do the math."

"Pig."

"Oink oink." Xander smiled, "Pointless to say that there wasn't ever anyone else, after you, I guess?"

"Oh, I _believe_ that. Really." Cordelia rolled her eyes, "Except for Demon Girl. And Faith."

"Hey. Anya came up to me, dropped all her clothes, and said I had to have sex with her so she could forget me. I repeat: I was eighteen and male. You do the math." He gave her half a lopsided grin, "And Faith was... hey. There was life saveage, and near death experience, and curve steerage. And it was _Faith_."

"Oh. And _that_ makes all the difference."

"Seriously? I'm male. And straight." His eyebrow went up. "And, hey – _Faith_. Hell, _you'd_ hit that. And you're not gay."

"I so would not!" Cordelia snorted, then paused thoughtfully.

"See?"

"Oh, shut up." Pause... "There'd _have_ to be alcohol involved."

"You're still of an age to be in your experimental phase," he said, understandingly.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, then gave him the blinding thousand watt Pepsodent Cordelia smile. "Exactly!"

Xander shifted carefully in his seat. "I think I just had a new fantasy hit my top five."

"Oh please, like you haven't had that one for years now."

"Well... " he shrugged. "Guy. What can I say?"

Laughing, she shook her head. "God, I've missed you."

"Once you go Xander, you never go back."

"Don't push your luck, Dweebo." Cordelia sighed. "I don't want to live in Sunnydale."

"We don't have to."

She raised an elegant, manicured eyebrow. "Oh? And what's this '_we_' stuff, Kemosabe."

"Wither thou goest, Mrs. Harris," Xander said, grinning. Shrugging, he added, "Shamar and Corey Construction has holdings all over. International even. I can work anywhere."

"I can't leave L.A." She sighed. "Visions – Angel and the guys need me."

He made a face at the 'A' word, but shrugged again. "Our main offices are in Los Angeles. I can live in L.A."

Cordelia gave him a skeptical look. "And Buffy? And the slay-age?"

"Six years, now." Sigh. "I've been less and less key-guy as time goes on."

"Angel. You. Less than mix-y."

"I can deal with Angel, if I have to." He made a face "Do I _have_ to?"

"Angel. Job. Me. Vision girl." She stared at him. "You do the Math."

"Well, fuck."

"Not right now, dear. We're driving."

"You have a room at that hotel, right?"

"Yup." He got the Pepsodent smile again. "Not like _you're_ going to see the inside of it."

"Oh, cruel." Xander shook his head, sadly. "You're failing on your wifely duties, already."

"Poor baby." Cordelia brightened, "Hey! If we don't consummate, that helps with the annulment, right?"

"We consummated." He grinned, "_Boy_, did we consummate. Just ask the people in the six adjoining floors."

"Oh. Right. Darn."

"It was good, though."

"Oh god, was it ever. I haven't consummated like that in... uh... forever."

Xander _looked_ at her, one eyebrow going up.

"Eyes on the road, Dork!" Cordy flushed, slowly, from the cleavage upwards. "Oh god. Did I think that out loud?"

"See that state trooper we just passed? Right now, he's going 'What? _What_ did she say?'"

"Oh, shut up."

"Hey, at least we know our kids will graduate 'momma-cum-loudly'."

The look she gave him was half alarmed, and more than half disbelieving. "The _hell_ did that come from? Kids?" She scowled, "You may not _live_ to have kids."

"Getting ahead of myself?"

"You _think_? Just a tad bit."

"Maybe if I agree to carry them?"

"Don't even tempt me."

"Not like you haven't had practice."

"The _what_ did you say... ?"

Xander looked at her frankly. "Litter of demon spawn? Impregnated with a bouncing baby third eye in the back of the head?"

"I am going to strangle Willow. Slowly."

"Oh, please." Xander shot her an incredulous look. "Like you thought Will _didn't_ shoot over to lay those little tidbits on Buffy as soon as the receiver hit the cradle? And Buffy to me?"

"Willow. Strangle. Slow."

"At least I only dated monsters. I didn't carry them to term."

Steel would melt from that look. Titanium, even. "_Willow_ is in Sunnydale," she bit out every syllable. She smiled sweetly, "_You_ are in arm's reach."

He gulped. "Yes, dear. Shutting up now, dear."

She gave him a gimlet stare, followed by a distinct 'humph!' sound. "Let's see... " She ticked off on her fingers as she continued, "Preying Mantis Teacher, Life-sucking Mummy Girl, Psycho Slayer, ex-Vengeance Demon... Do you _really_ want to compare dating resumes here, Fish Boy?"

"You wound me with your words." He grinned, "You left off the best of all: Demon Ice Princess of Sunnydale High, 1997, '98, and '99."

She snorted, then snickered, then started laughing. "That's _Queen_ Demon Ice Princess of Sunnydale High to you, King of Cretins. And don't you forget it."

"Never happen. You're unforgettable, Cordy." He grinned at her.

"Damn straight." She settled in comfortably, looking at him under her eyelashes. "Best thing that ever happened to you."

"Yup." Xander nodded. "Which is why I don't plan to let you go again," he said seriously.

An eyebrow arched at him. "Oh?"

"Hey," he waggled his ring finger at her. "To have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do us part."

"Hmmph." Cordelia snorted, "In our line of work? That last is a real possibility."

"I'll take my chances," he said, quietly.

Cordelia stared at him, then dropped her gaze to the matching ring. "You really _mean_ that, don't you."

"More than anything I've ever meant."

She looked at him askance. Xander was pretty sure that was what 'askance' looked like – he'd seen it directed at Anya often enough. "We're not seriously thinking about doing this, are we?" she asked.

"Uh... I dunno. Are we?" he asked, carefully.

"I'd have to be _completely_ out of my ever-loving mind."

"Think you achieved that in Buffy's basement in the eleventh grade."

"Don't remind me. It was such a nice mind – I miss it so." She frowned.

"Yeah, and it's far too small to be out on its own yet... "

THAT glare would melt adamantium...

"_You're_ one to talk, Microcephalic Man," Cordelia said. "Okay... What about Anya?"

Xander sighed. "Huh. Left at the altar, and married another woman in a drunken haze in Vegas. I'm thinking that bridge is not only burned, I done blowed it up, nuked the rubble, and pissed on the radioactive ashes."

"Nice imagery."

"Thank yew, thank yew, thank yew verra much." He sighed again, shaking his head. "So... I'm pretty sure that's a dead issue. Defunct. Bought the farm. Nailed to the perch. Pining for the fnords – "

"The parrot is ex. We get it," she laughed.

"Two shows a night, we're here all week. Enjoy the veal."

"And, besides. She's having sex with Spike."

"Don't remind me." Xander shuddered, "Saw it in living technicolor, on video."

"Ew." She considered, shuddered herself. "I have some brain bleach left."

"Ta, much," he shot her a pained grin. "On the up side, I'll probably go in the record books for the truly epic vengeance she'll come up with for me."

"We who are about to die horribly, would _so_ much rather not."

"Ex-_zact_-a-ly." Xander glanced sidelong at her. "So... are we actually considering this?"

"I'm thinking. I'm thinking." Cordelia buried her face in her hands. "Oh, god. I can't _believe_ I'm actually thinking about this."

"I knew I'd wear you down."

"Don't push it. Burying you in pieces is still an option." Cordelia smiled. It was not a nice smile. "We have a garden."

"_Angel_ gardens?" _Both_ of Xander's eyebrows shot up. "I thought he'd have, like, cold, dead seeds?"

"Don't go there. I will hurt you badly."

"A black thumb?'

"I'm warning you."

"Yes, dear."

She scowled suddenly, "How could ever I trust you?" Glowered at him. "I don't think I could _deal_ with another 'Fluke'."

"Seriously?" He looked at her incredulously. "Do you honestly think I could ever do that to you again?"

"Well... " Cordelia studied him for a long while. "No. I guess not."

"Damn straight."

Her lips twitched, once, twice, and into a full on smirk. "Unless Faith offered you another taste?"

"Well... "

Both eyebrows went up, and Cordelia riveted him with the Death-glare-from-Hell.

"Hey. Faith. Seriously... _you'd_ hit that."

The Death Glare intensified, then softened. "Hrrmph. As long as it's not Willow."

"She's gay now."

"Oh, right. And she couldn't have figured that out _before_ Homecoming?"

"What can I say? I ruined her for men."

Snort. Snicker... "Riiiiggghhht. Dream on, Dork-head."

"Oz doesn't count."

"I'm going to tell Oz you said that."

"Err... eep?" He waggled his eyebrows. "So... will you marry me?"

"We're already married, Dumbass."

"That was easy. Will you stay married to me?"

"I'm not talking to you any more."

"That's ok." He smiled. "I like the quiet."

"Be a cold day on the Hellmouth when _you_ get any."


	11. When Inlaws Are Outlawed

**Chapter Nine: When Inlaws Are Outlawed (Only Outlaws Will Have Inlaws)**

* * *

"_The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing –__and then marry him." ― _Cher

* * *

He really _hadn't_ gotten much quiet the rest of the drive, Cordelia reflected. After a brief pause, they'd carefully left the marriage topic, apparently by mutual consent, and switched to others. And, my gods, they'd talked the miles away.

She hadn't realized, after the catching up fest of the previous day and night, that they'd still had that much about the past three years left unsaid.

And there'd been that stop for gas, which probably made the late night gas station/convenience store attendant's whole week. Ahem. And that rest stop, where they hadn't gotten much rest... very, very roomy front bucket seats in an Avalanche.

Oh, god. She was _such_ a slut, jeeze.

Why the _hell_ couldn't she keep her hands – and other parts – off of the most infuriating male she'd ever known in her life? She was pretty sure there wasn't any love spell involved. And she'd been getting her ashes hauled pretty regularly before the, uh, marriage.

Oh, that's right. She wasn't a slut. She was married, after all. Pshew.

To Xander freaking Harris. Oh, gods. And, worse, she was enjoying herself more than she had in the past two years...

Even on the long sexy vacation with Groo.

_So_ very, very doomed.

They'd lost Gunn and Fred, somewhere along the line. And then caught up to them after the rest stop, somewhere after the California border, and led the way in.

And now she was walking into the Hyperion in the very wee hours of the morning in one of the sexiest dresses she'd ever owned, with her up-do hair straggling down around her face and a very recently fresh fucked look, hand in hand with Xander Harris. Married.

Cordelia kept coming back to that word.

_'So very very doomed,'_ Still, Quiet Voice said. _'Told you: he followed you home and now yer gonna keep him. Smirk.'_

Oh, shut up.

_'He's even house trained.'_

Dammit, he's _not_ a puppy! And, shut up.

And wanting to stay married. To her? The _hell_ did that come from? _Probably_ from Crimson Commando.

_'Oh, please. He brought you roses and a stuffed animal at the hospital even after you'd told him to get out. He left a zillion messages on your answering machine after you kicked him out the second time. He bought your prom dress.' _Still Quiet was a relentless bitch. _'You think he __ever_ _fell out of love with you?'_

Shut up. And he never actually _said_ he was in love with me.

_'More of an action guy, I'm thinking.'_

Yeah. Actions. Like having a smoochies affair with Willow.

_'Which went poof! the minute you got hurt. And, Cabana boy?'_

I didn't have an affair with the Cabana boy.

_'No. But you said you did. And never told that you didn't.'_

After Willow. After we broke up. After Faith. And I just said that to –

_'Hurt him like he hurt you. And you got it bad, girl.'_

Shut up shut up shut up. I so do not.

_'Answer me this, and I will: how come you're __not_ _going for the quickie divorce? Really.'_

Cordelia shook her head slightly, blinked and walked through the doors of the Hyperion. Still holding Xander's hand.

* * *

Angel was sitting at the high swivel chair behind the Hyperion's old check in desk when they wandered in. Looking morose and broody, naturally. At least he hadn't locked himself in his room in a broody fit. He looked up at them, looked at her and Xander holding hands, did a double take on her dress, blinked, and stood up.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, nodded, and said, "Hey." Like any other night.

Cordelia fixed a brilliant toothpaste smile on and said, "Hey," right back. "Gunn and Fred are parking Gunn's truck."

Angel nodded, and looked past her, a slight frown forming.

She suddenly realized that she no longer had a hand in hers, or a Xander beside her.

Said _Xander_ was standing a bit farther back in the foyer part of the lobby, looking around with a slow, broad grin growing on his face. Oh, gods. He wasn't going to crack a joke about her home and Angel's sweetheart, was he?

"Wow," he said, shaking his head. His eyes came down, and he met eyes with Angel, still wearing the goofiest grin, and said, "Man. Angel – this is just freaking cool."

Angel blinked. So did Cordelia.

"It really is, isn't it?" A slow smile spread across Angel's face.

"Oh, _hell_ yeah." Xander walked slowly across the lobby, craning his neck in every direction, until he was standing next to Cordelia again. "Man. It is a freaking _crime_ for this place to be like this. You really, really have got to restore it."

Angel winced slightly. Sore spot with him, Cordy knew.

"I know," he said, pained. "But... money. Classic restorations cost lots of it."

"I know," Xander said, still looking around. "Get a loan. Sell your sexual services. Something, jeeze. Hell – I'll help."

Cordelia derailed at the part where she envisioned Angel as a gigolo. She never got to the point where _Xander_ actually offered to help _Angel_ with something.

Angel did. Eventually. "Yeah, but it's not that easy – huh?"

"Hell, Angel. I work for a construction and development company that has a whole division that specializes in historical and classic building restoration." He shook his head, still grinning, and looked Angel in the eye. "And I'm an Assistant Junior V.P. I'm _sure_ we can cut you a deal."

Cordelia stopped picturing Angel and Xander and Gunn wearing Chippendale outfits and serving her drinks and wrenched herself back in in time to say, "David has always been offering to fund a restoration. And put us on retainer." At Xander's blank look she added, "David Nabbitt. A friend."

Angel scowled. Xander frowned slightly, then brightened, "David Nabbitt? Nabbitt Industries? Billionaire? The guy who tried to recruit Willow and Oz out of eleventh grade David Nabbitt?"

"I've _told_ you I don't want to do that, Cordy," Angel said.

"Man, Angel. Dude." Xander shook his head. "It's the 21st century. Corporate contracts are what all the cool investigative services are doing now." He blew right straight past Angel's scowl and waved the hand not holding Cordelia's around at the decor, "And man: criminal, absolutely criminal."

"Who's a criminal?" Gunn said, from the doorway.

"Yeah, 'cause we didn't do it, we weren't there, and you kaint prove nuthin' nohow," Fred added. "Is Bogie here getting' outta line again?"

"Apparently we are for not restoring the old girl here," Angel said, looking a bit dazed.

"Oh," Gunn said. "Hell, I coulda told you that."

"Just observing," Xander said, shrugging. "This place is so cool."

"Is, ain't it?" Gunn grinned. "It's like something outta the Thin Man, or North by Northwest or something."

Angel met Cordelia's not quite shit eating grin, and scowled. "I'll _think_ about it, ok?"

"Well," Gunn yawned, stretched. "I'm gonna escort my girl here up to her room, and sack out with her. Long drive and I'm tired."

"'Night, y'all," Fred said. They headed for the staircase up.

"Me too," Cordelia said, trying her best to stifle a matching yawn. "Xander and I are going to bed."

She stopped as Angel's scowl deepened slightly. "Me. I'm going to bed. Me. I'll stuff Xander in a closet somewhere."

"Gee, thanks Cordy."

"Oh... " Angel gave a tired wave of his arm. "For chrissakes. Go to bed. He's your husband, Cordy."

"Yeah." The Pepsodent smile got a lot more genuine. "For now, anyway."

* * *

In the old, ornate elevator on the way up to the residential level, Xander spent the ride admiring the workmanship, until they got off at their floor.

"Man." He shook his head suddenly, and started digging into an inside pocket. "Almost forgot."

"What?" Cordelia frowned at him, sleepily.

"Here," he said, thrusting a flat box at her. "No card, sorry."

Her mouth fell open as she took the box. She opened it slowly, still feeling stunned.

Inside was a gorgeous silver and jet cross on what looked to be a white gold chain. Small cross, nothing ostentatious. About the length of the last joint and a half of her little finger, maybe less. Celtic engraved silver caps on the ends of the jet bars, and the bands crisscrossing the center join.

"wow. I- I- I don't know what to say."

"I'm not real sure, but I'm thinking 'thank you' sounds vaguely familiar."

She swatted at his arm by reflex. "No, wise ass. I mean, what's it _for_?"

"Well, I would say 'just because', but it's actually for your birthday. Late, but there you go," he said. He frowned, "Actually, _really_ late considering your birthday's in late late November not long before mine."

"January 14th," she said, absently, while holding the cross up to admire it.

"No, it's not," Xander said, frowning slightly. "It's November 30th, just at three weeks before mine."

"Angel thinks it is. And Doyle did. Don't tell anyone," she said. "Somehow, Angel got the thought it was January, and he looked so puppy dog holding the gift – _late_ gift – that I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise."

"As you wish," Xander grinned. "Not a word shall pass my lips."

She held it out to him and turned around, and he took it, undoing the clasp to place it around her neck. While he was fumbling at the tiny clasp, she grinned and said, "And now I have two birthdays. In a row."

Xander started laughing, and kissed her shoulder as the clasp locked in place. "That's my girl. Always with the eye on the ball."

She shrugged, turning back to him, looking down at the cross. "So, where did you get this? 'Cause I know you _so_ weren't carrying it on the off chance you'd run into me in Vegas out of the blue. Or do you just carry spare necklaces around for whatever girls you happen to get drunk and wake up married to?"

"Bought it while you were hunting shoes to go with that sexy white suit thing," he shrugged. "When I excused myself for the little Xander room." She lifted an eyebrow, and he added, "You'd mentioned your birthday earlier that afternoon, so..."

"It's gorgeous. And you are _so_ not weaseling your way into my heart with it."

"Can I at least weasel my way into sleeping with you?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Who the hell says you'll be _sleeping_?" She grinned, wickedly.

* * *

Breakfast at Angel Investigations. An old tradition, according to Cordy, begun before Doyle had died. Angel cooking, watching everyone else eat with a slight smile as they enjoyed his efforts. Almost like normal.

Except for the addition of one Xander Harris.

Ok, _late_ breakfast. They'd slept the day away, pretty much. Xander pushed his empty (scraped clean and nearly licked clean) plate away, and fixed Angel with a disbelieving look.

"You can cook," he said.

The corner of Angel's mouth twitched up into a slight smile almost like they weren't enemies or something. And, seriously: Xander was having a major problem maintaining a serious dislike for someone who could own a building like this and cook like that. Jeeze.

One more plate and he'd be wanting to have Angel's children. Eww.

"So I can."

"But you don't eat," Xander said, shaking his head. "_Not_ an insult, I mean, how do you know if you're making it good?"

"I can eat," Angel said, seating himself with a cup of coffee. "I just don't. And I _can_ taste."

"Huh." Xander frowned, "Spike always says that vampires can't taste anything in human food unless it's really strong. Like those onion flower things. Or hot sauce."

Angel rolled his eyes. "William was a gourmand at best when he was alive. He never _had_ any taste buds, much less competent ones."

Xander grinned. "Crap. Spike hate: a subject we can bond over."

Cordelia watched them interacting, her half lifted eyebrows caught somewhere between dismay and bemusement. Xander took her hand under the table and she beamed at him.

"I'm not sure I could deal with the sight of you and Angel bonding," she said.

"How can we not? Hey, someone who hates Spike as much as I do," Xander said, giving her the puppy dog eyes.

Angel snickered. "Oh, don't _even_ get me started." He apparently caught the hands byplay and a shadow flickered across his face, but he gave no outward notice of it.

Gunn and Fred each gave him pleading looks. "Oh please Unca Angel. Can we have some Spike bashing stories?"

Cordelia burst out laughing, and Xander snickered.

"Maybe later kids. If you wash behind your ears before bedtime," Angel said, smiling slightly.

"Aww. Gee, Unca Angel," Xander said, sticking his lip out. "You never let us have any fun."

"Don't start." Angel grinned, almost in spite of himself.

"Oh, please." Xander shook his head. "Everyone else looks at me like I'm strangling puppies when I get rolling on a good Spike bashing fest. You guys are the _only_ ones I can get away with it with."

"Can't believe you guys let him hang around," Angel shook his head, Cordelia giving him a look of approval for making nice with her husband. Probably much better than the blazing, pained, scornful one from the other night, Xander reflected.

"Believe me, Cordy and I already had this discussion," Xander said. He spread his hands in a helpless gesture, "I'm with you and her on that."

"What, two and a half years?" Angel shook his head. "Wimp. You should try being around him for three _decades_. And I was _evil_ at the time, even."

Gunn started laughing when Xander said, "I feel your pain. Another year and I may _turn_ evil from being around him."

"Oh, dear God no," Angel said. "You as a vampire is one of my worst nightmares."

"Hey, vamp Willow said I was a bad-ass vampire," Xander said, grinning.

"Just don't go there. I'd enjoy staking you too much," Angel snorted. "I might lose my soul."

Fred began clearing dishes, and Angel stood up, heading for the dining room door.

Xander kinda almost hated to risk spoiling the brief almost camaraderie, but... "Hey," he called out. Angel turned partway as Xander spoke. "We should probably talk at some point," he said.

Angel nodded. "Unless Cordy has a vision or we get a case, I'll be in my office working on some stuff."

* * *

"So." Harris sat down in one of the comfortable guest chairs in front of Angel's desk. Sprawled, was more like it. He looked the office over with obvious curiosity, examining the P.I. license and the various weapons and curios and things. The grin slowly broadened as he examined Angel's desktop.

"What?" Angel finally asked.

"Where's your magnifying glass?"

"What? Huh, I don't... " Ok, whatever he'd been expecting, that wasn't it. He really should have remembered how conversations with Xander Harris tended to start out surreal and go downhill in a hurry from there.

"And, no deer-stalker? Or curvy pipe?"

"Wait – Holmes never wore a – " Angel took a deep breath, stopped. "I'm not Sherlock Holmes."

"I can tell. I mean, the way you're dressed?"

"It's the 20th C- " Angel scowled. "Wait. What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"

"Oh, please. Long black leather coat? Silk shirt? Black jeans?" Xander shook his head, started ticking off fingers as he spoke. "No fedora. No rumpled pin-striped suit. No spats. No gat, jeeze."

"I'm not that kind of a detective."

"Obviously," Xander said, sighing. "You have, like, _no_ sense of fashion."

"I do too have a – " Angel stopped, closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, opened them and started again. "Coming from you, that's a laugh." Ha! Got him there.

"Please," Xander continued, oblivious. "Phillip Marlowe would disown you. Dixon Hill would snub you. Mike Hammer would kick you out of the union."

Deep breath again. There was a slow pain developing behind his eyes. "Those. Are. Fictional. Characters."

Xander's face fell.

"Oh." He said after a moment, "Ok, Sam Spade would kick you out of the union."

"He's fictional too."

"Whatever." Xander waved a dismissive hand. "Point is, you're no Archie Goodwin."

"I'm... "

"Although you do have a kind of a Jim Rockford thing going, only with a hotel and no double-wide. And you are named Angel. Who in the documentary was kind of a weasel, but – "

"Xander!"

"What?"

"The Rockford Files was a television show, _not_ a documentary."

"Really?" Harris peered at him suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, dammit!"

"Well, ok. You didn't have to shout," Xander grumbled, slumping more comfortably into the chair.

"Xander... " Angel resisted an urge to put his face in his hands, took a deep breath, grabbed the conversation – and his temper – with both hands, and wrestled both of them back on track. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh." The grin twitching at the corner of Xander's lips and the dance in his eyes suddenly clued Angel in that he'd been having his leg pulled. He resisted an urge to strangle the boy. Man. Whatever. Human.

"Yes. If you're _real_ sure you're done winding me up, could we please get on with it?"

"Why Angel, I have no idea what you mean," Xander said. He held out his hands in a gesture of surrender. "But anyway." He straightened in the chair, and suddenly went all dark eyed and intense and Angel leaned away before he realized what he was doing. "Cordelia."

"Huh?"

"Cor-de-li-a." Xander said, "Kinda assumed you'd want to talk about me and her? Maybe give me the shovel speech?"

"Shovel speech?"

"Yeah, you know," Xander pitched his voice deeper, and said, "Just what _are_ your intentions with my daughter, son? And before you answer, I want you to know I own a shotgun and a shovel and I know how to use both of them."

A grin started twitching at the corner of Angel's lips, in spite of himself. "Impersonation of Cordelia's dad? And speaking from personal history?"

"I see you've met the man," Xander said, grinning. "And no, not word for word, but you get the gist."

"I'm surprised you survived it," the lip twitch became a full blown grin.

"Naw. Cordy's dad always kinda liked me. Hated Jesse, but me he kinda liked. Go figger. At least up to the fluke thing, anyway," he said. "But her _mom_, on the other hand... " Xander shuddered, "Very scary lady when she wanted to be."

"If you're ever captured by the enemy, never let them hand you to the women."

"Oh, gods no. And they say _we're_ brutal." Xander grinned, and made a 'by all means' gesture, "Anyway."

"Cordelia is not my daughter."

"And may I just say, thank gods for that. I really don't think I could deal with you as my father-in-law," Xander said, shuddering. "No offense."

"None taken," Angel found himself shuddering at the thought. "Anyway, Cordelia's not my daughter. And I suppose I really don't have any say in who she dates or gets... " it stuck in his throat, but he managed to get the word out, "married to."

"Which is of the good," Xander said. "But I figured I'd give you the opportunity."

"Wait, you _wanted_ me to give you the speech?" Angel shook his head, realizing the conversation had slipped out of his two handed grasp again.

"Well, yeah," Xander said, slowly. "It shows you care."

"Of course I care!" Angel glared at him.

"Uh huh. And you did a lot of yelling the other night, but _Gunn_ was the only one who took me aside and gave me the 'ever hurt her and they'll never find the body' speech."

Angel snorted, and spread his hands. "We were kinda distracted. I was kinda distracted," he said. "But I do care."

"Of course you do," Xander said, settling himself comfortably. "Considering you have a thing for Cordy and all."

"I do not!" Angel shook his head, then paused. There had been a growing realization, ever since Groo had shown back up, that his feelings for Cordelia might be just a bit more than just platonic. And more than just friends.

Water under the bridge now, if he couldn't figure out a way to derail this relationship.

Somehow, he had a sneaking and uncomfortable feeling that Xander was a bit more serious of a contender in that department than Groo had ever been. Especially after watching them at that karaoke bar, and at breakfast this morning. And that Xander Harris was probably a lot harder than Groo to dislodge if Cordelia didn't want him to be.

He suddenly realized he'd been quiet for a long time now, probably looking introspective, and that Harris was studying him intently.

"I... " Angel took a deep breath, resisted the urge to face palm, and said, "It's been kind of dawning on me that I maybe do."

"Maybe. Kinda. Sort of," Xander said in a musing tone. He straightened in the chair again, once more intent. "I've always been in awe of your sense of certainty and conviction."

Angel jerked straight in his seat, glared. "Coming from you, that's rich."

Lopsided grin. "My convictions have never wavered, if you think about it. Not on anything that mattered." He met Angel's glare evenly. "So. Is it a mutual thing?"

"What, you didn't ask her?"

"Pretend I didn't," Xander waved it off. "I'm asking you. Man to vampire. What exactly are your intentions toward my wife?"

Angel snorted, winced at the 'wife' thing, then turned introspective again. "Huh," he said, reflecting on the past several months. "Dunno. I'd thought... " He stopped, started again, "I... "Angel shook his head. "I'd thought that maybe me and Cordelia... something was developing there." His hands spread helplessly on the desk and his voice was almost plaintive.

Xander leaned forward, those dark eyes intense. "It must just eat you up that I got there first."

Suddenly, with no idea how he got there, Angel was up and leaning forward over the desk, one fist braced on the desk and the other reaching out, fingers clawed in a throat grasping motion. There was a soft growling noise from somewhere.

Angel realized suddenly it was coming from deep in his chest, and it shocked him motionless.

Holding himself very still, Xander met his eyes, an eyebrow going up slowly. Angel sat down slowly and carefully, unclenching his hands. He let out the breath he suddenly realized he was holding, feeling very tired, and very old.

"I had that coming, didn't I?"

"You really did," Xander agreed, nodding.

"You've been waiting for years to use that line, huh?"

"Not really." Leaning back, a half grin slowly curled up the left side of Harris' mouth. "But I learned a long time ago not to ever let a perfectly good straight line escape with a whole skin."

That surprised a ghost of a grin, and a slight huff of a laugh out of him. He quirked an eyebrow, "You didn't flinch." Angel's voice was grudgingly approving.

Snort. "I've learned whole new standards for scary in the past four years." Xander shrugged slightly, "And if you'd been going to kill me, I couldn't have moved fast enough to matter, no?"

"No," Angel shook his head. "Guess not."

They looked at each other for a long time, two men who'd never managed to like each other, and who'd managed to hate each other more often than not. Two men, one not exactly a man, with, now, two women between them making sure that 'liking' probably wasn't going to be an issue.

"So... " Xander paused, carefully. "You had a thing."

"Ah... " Angel shrugged. "I thought, maybe... " he trailed off, shrugging again.

Xander shook his head, a rueful expression on his face. "You never really _did_ think these things through, huh?"

Angel went motionless, briefly, then tilted his head and asked, "What do you mean?" He was rather proud of the even way his voice came out.

"You." Xander said. An eyebrow went up as he studied the vampire. "Vampire with a soul."

"Yes... ?" Angel frowned slightly. "I am."

"And a soul curse that makes sure you can't ever experience a moment of perfect happiness without your evil twin coming out to play." Xander spread his hands, "And then badness, and rape, and death, and maiming. Not in that order."

"You going somewhere with this?" Angel's voice was pained. "Not like I'm not _aware_ of all that," he said, sourly.

"Buffy. Beautiful girl, thing for vampires, ruined her whole world," Xander shook his head. "Not that that was your fault, really – or anyone's fault really – because neither of you knew about the whole badness clause." He cupped his hands in a weighing motion, lifted one of them. "And Cordelia Chase. Beautiful girl, not really a thing for vampires, but a thing for hunks of 'salty goodness' – her own words."

Angel resisted the impulse to preen in the salty comment. "Curse really isn't an issue there," he began. He broke off suddenly as Xander's expression froze.

"Again," Xander huffed out a breath, running one hand through his hair in an exasperated gesture. "Not really much on thinking this through."

"Why, then," Angel bit out, "Don't you enlighten me, oh wise one?" The sarcasm in his voice could curdle milk.

"Wise one," Xander shook his head, "_That's_ a laugh. Not so much with the wisdom these past few years, Angel. Massive with the screw-ups, yeah." He locked gazes with the vampire. "No wisdom to mention. I just see things. And I'm always surprised that other, lots smarter people can't seem to see them."

Angel leaned back in his chair, trying for a bored expression and tone. "Yeah?" He made a 'move it along' gesture.

Xander grinned, mirthless. "Ok. So... Cordelia Chase. Beautiful girl. You guys work together, face constant danger, constant bickering, flashing eyes, heaving chests, UST, sound like anyone else you know?" He plowed onwards, not waiting for a response. "So, attraction grows, feelings develop, no surprise, it happens." He gestured widely, "So. What next?"

Angel scowled. He made an impatient gesture, "What do you mean, 'what next'?'"

"Simple question," Xander leaned forward, eye intent. "What next? Something clicks, things happen, wild monkey love occurs?"

"That's not... !" Angel forced himself calm again. "I shouldn't have to describe the birds and the bees for you."

"When a mommy bee loves a daddy bee verrrrryy much... " Xander snorted. "Been there, done that. The most painfully awkward eleven minutes I ever spent with my dad. Thank God that's over."

Angel snorted, a slight half smile quirking his lip despite himself, picturing it. "I can relate."

"Your dad too, huh?" Xander grinned, eyes sparkling. "Some things just must cross centuries."

He sobered abruptly, almost giving Angel mood whiplash. He wondered, not for the first time, if Harris had ever been diagnosed as manic.

"So. Do you love her?"

"Huh?"

"So. Do. You. Love. Her." Harris' eyes bore into his. "Cordelia Chase."

"I thought I could." Angel bit out, annoyed. "Kinda pointless now, huh?" Those eyes bore into his, remorseless, searching for something. He elaborated, despite himself. "As a friend? Yeah. As something more... ? I thought maybe... Y'know? I really could."

"Groovy." Xander leaned back, running both hands through his hair again. He shook his head. "No you don't."

"What?" Angel leaned back as if slapped.

"No. You. Don't."

"Now listen here," leaning forwards, Angel barely managed to bite off the 'punk' that almost came out, substituting, "Harris," instead. "I just told you that I think I- "

"Bullshit!" The slap of Xander's hand hitting the desk top sounded like a pistol shot. Angel jerked back, shocked.

The door to Angel's office jerked open and Fred leaned in, eyes wide and scared. Two heads snapped to her, and two pairs of eyes riveted her in place.

"We're. Busy." Two voices snapped out almost as one.

Fred squeaked and jerked back out of the doorway so fast she left a smoke trail.

"You're going to have to explain that to me," Angel grated out, "Because I'm starting to have a wee bit of a problem with you."

"Gee. Behind the curve much? I started having a wee bit of a problem with _you_ years ago."

They glared at each other for long moments, until Xander held up his hands, palms out, and leaned back.

"Ok." Harris shook his head, looking exasperated. "So, things happen, you fall in love, then what?" He raised one hand, palm up. "On the one hand, perfect moment yadda yadda, happiness, perfect, soul goes bye bye, Angelus comes out to play." He drew a deep breath, "Dunno if you can picture that from our perspective, but... _so_ very _much_ not fun.

"Soul goes, you torture and kill Cordy, maybe turn her," he continued over Angel looking as though he wanted to interrupt. "Kill that sweet brunette we just made pee her pants, kill Gunn, Lorne, track down those lawyers you've been playing with, kill them, head up north and hey – there goes Buffy and the rest of us." Xander smirked, "Good times had by all, not."

Angel's mouth opened, and Xander held out his other hand to stop him, then turned it palm up. "Or _worse_: you get together and do the love thing and, again, worse – it _doesn't_."

Angel blinked. "You lost me on the curve. Worse?"

"Jeeze. Hello, Cordelia _Chase_, have you two _met_?"

"Yeah, but, Angelus... " Angel shook his head, feeling a bit dazed by where this unpredictable conversation kept heading.

"Angelus, smangelus. Sheesh." The look Harris gave him was pitying. "Cordelia Chase. Junior Miss California, seventh grade. May Queen, Queen of Sunnydale High 1996, Queen C, prettiest girl in Sunnydale for eighteen years running. Miss 'I have to have the most expensive thing not because it's the best, but because it's expensive'. Used to nothing but the best of everything for all of her life, until maybe lately.

"And _then_ she gets slapped in the face with the fact that the guy she maybe falls in love with _isn't_, _can't_ be, _doesn't_ get a rush of perfect fucking happiness _just _from being with _her_."

That was like a dash of ice cold water in the face. Angel's mouth opened to say something and nothing came out. He closed it and leaned back, frowning.

"Long term?" Xander sighed. "Man, that knowledge would eat at and fucking _destroy_ her."

"She's stronger than that," Angel protested, sounding weak to his own ears.

"She shouldn't _have_ to be."

That traitorous little voice in the back of his mind, the one that sounded like Angelus, smirked and gleefully said, 'no, she shouldn't'. He closed his eyes for a moment, hating Harris with every fiber of his being.

"I dunno much," Xander cut across like a blade before he could speak, remorseless. "But I do know: when you love someone, it's not about _you_. It's your whole fucking world wrapped up in what's best for them, and what makes them happiest. It's reaching for the moon, just because it's _there_, and it might make their eyes glow." His voice went softer, "When you love someone, really love them: you _don't_ make them _settle_. You just _don't_."

Angel's eyes opened, flat and opaque, "And I suppose that _you_ can give her that." He didn't intend it to sound _quite_ that bitter.

"Dude. I get a perfect happy every time she gives me that thousand watt smile and I know it's aimed at me. Always have." Xander's eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. "I get perfect happiness every time she kisses me, just because it's her. _The_ her. The One. Always has been. I'm perfectly happy when she looks at me that certain way and her eyes light up. I get _orgasms_ of perfect happy when she calls me dork or dweeb with that certain tone in her voice."

Angel winced. "You could maybe have phrased that last one differently?"

"Too much?"

"I may be ill."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"You are not wrong." Xander grinned. "Worst thing in my life was when I made that light in her eyes go out. Best was when it came back."

"Always has been, huh?" Angel just couldn't help reaching for the knife, giving it a twist. "Then what was that thing with Willow?"

Xander's eyes frosted a bit, but his voice stayed the same, easy and even. "I was young and stupid. What's your excuse?"

Sigh. "Don't really have one," his eyes flicked down. Angel's eyes were bleak when they came back up to Xander's. Eyes narrowing, Angel just couldn't stop himself from asking, "And Anya? Your fiancé?"

"And Buffy?" Xander lobbed back.

Angel jerked from the hit, then glared. "You _know_ why I left Buffy."

"Yeah, I do. One of the first things you ever did that made me respect you, instead of just hating you," Xander said, nodding. "But it doesn't answer the question."

"I asked you first."

With an easy shrug, Xander lifted his hands, palms up and spread slightly. "I loved – love – Anya."

"Just not 'The One' love, eh?"

"You really can love more than one person in your life, in different ways," Xander stated. "But that whole wedding thing? That little encounter with Anya's demony past suddenly kinda woke me up to the fact that I wanted to be married because it was normal and _real, _and because Anya wanted it – not because I really wanted to be married to _Anya_."

"And when you love someone: you don't make them settle, huh?"

Nodding, Xander added, "And Anya? She wanted the _idea_ of being Mrs. Xander Harris. Another step on the whole 'being human' staircase: job, purpose, love, picture perfect wedding, husband, family, home, picket fence – check." He smiled, "Because it's what human beings do, and Anya really was working really hard at marking off all the boxes on that whole being human thing.

"Me? I'm thinking that's how my dad and mom ended up where they did."

"Checking off the boxes?" Angel looked thoughtful.

"I'm not explaining it well."

"No," Angel made a halting gesture. "You are. I get it, really. I think that's what happened with my mother and father, maybe. Settling for the expected because it was what you did back then, and then gradually falling into hate with each other."

"Gack," Xander said, "We have common background?"

"Unsettling, isn't it?"

"I may be ill."

They smirked at each other.

"At first, hey – sex. Then it was companionship, and the whole dating and learning to live together thing. And then I grew to love Anya," Xander said. He gestured helplessly, "But _Cordelia_... "

"So you left Anya and went looking for your real love?" Angel scowled, puzzled.

"Huh? No – " Xander shook his head emphatically. "Serendipity. Just happened to bump into Cordy out of the wild blue."

"And realized she was 'The One', and got drunk and fell into bed with her. And marriage."

"It sounds so tawdry when you put it like that."

"But oh so very accurate."

"And there weren't many beds involved, at first," Xander smirked.

"I really didn't need to know that." Angel glared at him.

"Too much information?"

"Sudden mental images," Angel said, shuddering.

"I have some brain bleach left over... "

"Heh." Angel mused, half to himself, "You know, people really do that all the time." At Xander's raised eyebrow, he shrugged slightly and said, "Settle. Settle for what's available, rather than what they – we want."

"_We_ don't." A half smile spread across Xander's lips, "We're demon hunters and souled vampires and vampire slayers and witches and seers. We're larger than life. We save the world, lots. We _don't_ settle."

"Fairly tale romances for fairy tale people?" Angel's eyebrows raised at him.

"If the glass slipper fits... "

"Ok. I can't give Cordelia that." Angel sighed, feeling defeated and ancient. And unutterably weary. "I can't ever give _anyone_ that. Tried the fairy tale love with Buffy... and we know where _that_ ended."

"I know." Xander's expression was equally pained, amazingly. "Don't take this the wrong way, man, but while I sympathize, I can't really make myself feel too bad for you. Having Angelus locked up gives me warm fuzzies."

"It's a really good thing for you that it's not perfect hatred that makes him come out." They grinned at each other with no mirth in it.

"Isn't it just?"

Angel flicked his gaze away. "So, what. I can never, ever have that? I don't get to have that thing that everyone else can?"

"Not my problem." Angel's gaze came up, suddenly hot. Xander stood up, easily. He spread his hands, shrugged. "I were you, I'd look for a fix for that curse thing."

"Heh." Angel shook his head. "Not that easy."

"Nothing ever is."

"Brother in law, maybe," Angel said as he was walking away. Xander paused on his way to the door, quirking a half-grin and a raised eyebrow. Angel added, "Family you claim. I think Gunn and I are probably the closest things to big brothers Cordy's ever had."

"I can live with that," Xander said, heading for the door out.

"Xander."

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, turned, one eyebrow rising.

"If you ever hurt her, like you did before," Angel's voice was very soft. "You're going to die and I'm going to be there."

"You've been waiting for years to use that line, haven't you?"

"No." His smile didn't touch the eyes. "But I learned a long time ago not to ever let a perfectly good straight line escape with a whole skin."

An involuntary laugh huffed out, then Xander sobered. Nodded.

"If I ever do," Xander stated, "You won't have to. I'll die before you get there."


	12. It's Been a Hard Knight's Day

**Chapter Ten:** **It's Been a Hard Knight's ****Day (And we been workin' like a dog)**

* * *

"_I wish I would have a real tragic love affair and get so bummed out that I'd just quit my job and become a bum for a few years, because I was thinking about doing that anyway."_ - Jack Handey

* * *

"And here we go," Cordelia said, as the door swung open on its own once she'd pulled the key out of the lock.

"Nice," Xander said, stepping across the threshold after her. It was, actually. And one hundred and ten percent Cordy, from what he could see so far.

Even if not nearly as expensively furnished as she would once have gone for, back when she could. He set the bags down, stretching the kinks out of his shoulders.

"Hey, Dennis, I'm back."

A dry erase marker rose from the coffee table, apparently up on its own, and scribbled on the big white board on an easel to one side: "So I see. Expected you sooner?"

"Ah... " Cordelia shook her head, a slow flush creeping up her neck. "Something ah, came up."

"Boy, did it ever."

She swatted him on the arm. "Be nice."

"I'll try," he grinned at her. Then he stepped forward, and stuck his hand out. "You must be Dennis. Xander Harris."

Xander was not quite startled to feel a pressure in the form of a cool, dry, invisible hand take his and pump it a couple of times. Then the dry erase board began taking on words: "Pleased to meet you."

Followed immediately by: "Most people don't take this nearly as much in stride."

"Hey, I'm a Sunnydale kid. I quit being freaked out by ghosties, ghoulies, and goblins years ago."

Cordelia grinned at them, "Yup. Xander, meet Phantom Dennis. He's my roommate, best invisible friend, and armed house guard."

The dry erase marker scribbled: "I keep the vampires away. All but the one with the single eyebrow."

Xander started laughing, "I see you've met Angel."

"Yep. So, Cordy. Where did you find him?"

Cordelia snorted and rolled her eyes. "This old thing? I dug him up out of my past. Punishment for a previous life, I think."

"Hrmm."

"That's me. Cordelia's bad penny," Xander said, nodding.

Scribble, "Oh, wait – I've heard about you."

"Hey," Xander held up his hands, palms out. "Whatever it was, I promise I'll never do it again."

"Better not." A few moments later, a chef's knife came floating out of the kitchen and waved menacingly before going back to the knife block.

A huge grin split Xander's face from ear to ear. "Hey Cordy, I like him."

"Oh, please," Cordelia shook her head. "I'm _telling_ you: you _can't_ judge all my friends by whether they threaten you or not."

"Seems to be working so far," Xander shrugged.

"I like him too. Unlike Groo, this one has a personality."

"Groo had a personality!"

"Suuurree he did. Compared to what, pasta? Snerk."

Xander started snickering. "Hey, your ghost is a smart ass." He shook his head, slowly and wonderingly, "Only you, Cordy. Only you."

"Oh, shut up. Both of you." She went over to the couch and thumped down, grabbing a throw pillow and holding it in front of her with a sulky look.

"Was it something we said?" Dennis scribbled.

"I hate you both."

"Aww. We're sorry Cordy." Xander stuck his lower lip out, and fluttered his eyelashes.

Dennis scribbled, "Sniffle," on the dry erase board.

"Oh, for... " Cordelia's lips started twitching. "Stop that, you two."

The bags lifted up and started floating towards the arch at the back of the room.

"Thanks, Dennis. Just set them in the bedroom," Cordy called out.

Xander grinned down at her. "I'll go get the others," he said. "What did you want to do tonight?"

"Hrmm. Not sure," she said. "Stay in? Snuggle? Talk? Play scrabble with Dennis?"

"Sure. Call out for Thai?" He opened the door, paused for her answer.

"Sure, why not?"

* * *

Friday morning, dawned, or rather, nooned, brightly with the sunlight falling in through Cordelia's bedroom window onto Xander's face. He opened his eyes, stretched, looked down, and smiled at the woman curled into his chest making grumbling sounds as she resettled herself.

A part of him wondered just _when _he'd made the decision that he really wanted to keep this accidental marriage. With Cordelia Chase of all people. Another part thought that it hadn't ever been a decision at all, conscious or otherwise. It just was. From the moment he'd managed to puzzle out that the naked woman sprawled across him was Cordelia Chase and she was wearing the matching ring to the one on his finger, it just was.

Or it might have been at some point during the incandescent post fighting sex after that first argument...

Felt right, too. Even when they were in the middle of that blazing row after she'd woken up and figured it out. _Right _in a way that marrying Anya had never quite felt.

Whenever it happened, it was there now. He realized he really could happily wake up like this with Cordelia for the rest of their lives.

Sigh. Could really get to hate getting up of a morning. Gonna really hate it when he went back to work and started getting up at pre-dawn again. Oh well. He_ really _needed to take care of some things while it's still daylight. And business hours.

A part of him thought about checking in with Willow. And Buffy. And then again, Willow had his cell number. Hell with it. They knew how to reach him if they needed to.

Or wanted to...

And if several days to a week went by and they never made the attempt, well... that would say something interesting, now, wouldn't it?

He stretched again, yawned, and very carefully slipped out from under Cordelia without waking her. Bent to kiss her very softly on the lips after she'd finished grumbling and smacking her lips and tossing until she settled again.

Didn't work, darn it. Either she wasn't really a princess, or he had way too much frog in him. Rats.

She did smile in her sleep, though.

Phantom Dennis was already lifting the marker at the dry erase board as he walked into the living room, wearing a dark green sleeveless Stones tee over a pair of khaki cargo pants and toweling his hair dry. Xander was. Not Dennis. He wasn't sure what Dennis was wearing.

"I have coffee working. Is Cordy up too?" Dennis wrote out.

"Thanks, Dennis," Xander said. "And no, not yet."

"Ah. Are you leaving?"

"Never," Xander grinned. "Never ever."

"That's good. She was happy last night."

The grin broadened just a bit. "But I do, unfortunately, have to go take care of some business and crap."

"Have coffee first. And some stale donuts."

* * *

He pulled open the door to find an enormous chest just outside, and a large set of knuckles poised to strike.

After a near heart attack moment, he realized that whoever belonged to the knuckles had been about to _knock_, not about to level his face.

Or maybe not. Lifting his gaze upwards, he found Groo-the-Towering looking down at him with a puzzled sort of frown. Face leveling might be in the offing yet.

"Hi there, Lurch," Xander's mouth always did manage to work without input from his brain.

"Greetings," Groo nodded to him. It wasn't a friendly nod, but Xander figured he could probably understand that.

"I'll just bet you're here to talk to Cordy."

"Yes," Groo said. "But I could and would also speak to you as well."

"Ah." Xander folded his arms across his chest. He lifted an eyebrow.

After a moment, Groo shook his head. "Princess Cordelia first."

Xander hid his grin carefully, and nodded. "No probs." He closed the door and headed into the bedroom, ignoring the "Uh oh" on the white board.

"Hey," he shook Cordelia's shoulder, gently. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty, your public awaits."

After a few minutes she groaned and threw an arm over her eyes. "Go away. Sigh. Gods, I am so not a morning person."

"Yeah, I know, and I'd much rather have left you sleeping 'til you woke up," Xander said. "There's coffee."

"That's nice." Cordelia rolled over. "Pour it over your head and go away."

Snicker. "Wakey wakey," Xander shook her gently again. "Seriously," he said, "Up and atom, woman."

"Gods. Not much on hints, are you." Cordelia snuggled deeper into the covers. "F'off 'n die. Eat worms. Shoo."

"I would, but... " Xander waited 'til she rolled back over and cracked an eyelid open at him, "Lord Groosomelug requests an audience with Her Majesty."

"Glah!" Cordelia sat up, looking panicked. "Did you let him in?"

"Nope, I left him out on the stoop with the milk bottles."

"Crap." She rubbed her eyes and stretched, an activity that never failed to rivet his attention. "I _know_ you weren't raised in a barn, even if you _were_ raised by wolves." She slid off the bed, pointed. "Go. Go let him in, give him some coffee, etc, while I get dressed. Yeesh."

"As you wish," Xander shook his head and rolled his eyes at her.

"Quit saying it, Westley, and do it," she snapped. "Mrrph!" He leaned forward and stole a kiss, and another. She melted briefly, then pushed him away. "Quit that. And god I can't believe I just said that... "

He grinned, snapped a salute and turned on his heel, heading out.

After a while, she came out to find him and Groo sipping coffee in the dining nook, and looking uncomfortably at each other. Groo stood and bowed from the waist.

Xander bowed from his chair, with a smirk.

"Uh... Hi," Cordelia said, brightly. She glared daggers at Xander, then turned back to Groo.

"Princess," Groo said. "Having given matters much thought, I have decided to come and retrieve the belongings that I have here, and take my leave."

"Ah. Oh... " Cordelia's face crumpled for a brief second, then she straightened. She nodded. "Well, sure."

"And to speak with you, if I may."

"Oh! Uh... well sure."

Groo glared at Xander, then looked back to Cordelia. "In private?"

"Ah... " Cordelia looked hopefully at Xander, who was slouched back in his chair with his arms folded and both eyebrows up.

He sighed heavily and stood. "Sure. I think I'll go sit in my truck for a bit." His eyes crinkled a smile at her though, and the corner of his lip curled up, "And listen to the music of pain."

Cordelia snorted, and she mouthed 'thank you' at him silently, then turned to Groo. "Let's go sit down in here... "

* * *

"Taking your leave, huh? That sounds, uh... final?"

Groo shrugged. "It seems well met to do so. I am wrong for you, apparently."

"No!" Cordelia shook her head, then sighed... Damn it, she thought to herself.

_'Wow. He's smarter than I thought,'_ said Still Quiet Voice.

Oh, shut up.

"Why do you say that?"

"I am not the one you love, he is."

"Xander?" Cordelia's brain froze for a minute. Unfroze. "But... Xander? No! No way!"

_'Yes he is,'_ Still Quiet said.

Groo smiled at her gently and took her hands in his. He raised one to his lips, and sighed as he lowered it. Shook his head, "Yes. You do."

Cordelia's eyes widened. "I love _Xander_? What are you talking about? I –loved, err, love, err, love!... you know... us."

_'No you don't,' _said Still Quiet.

"No, you do not," Groo said, softly. "Perhaps you willed it to be so, but no. Not really."

_'See? Neener neener,'_ said Still Quiet.

"No. Wait. I did," Cordelia said. "Do!"

_'No. __You_ _love scruffy goofballs with hero streaks,'_ Still Quiet averred. _'__Not_ _tall, dark, brainless Perfect Warrior types with rippling muscles like any sensible girl would.'_

"I believe you have already said I do."

"Yeah," Cordelia said, shaking her head. "Wait, was that a joke?"

_'Wow. He has a sense of humor? Who'da thunk it? Where was he hiding it – in his loincloth?'_

"Yes. A very small one." Groo chuckled, almost painfully. "And a true one, I think."

"No! No, dammit," Cordelia said. She sighed, turning away from him. He reached out, took her by the chin, and gently turned her face back.

_'Yes yes, dammit. You said I do, right after you said oh gods – do me!'_

"Yes." Groo looked down into her eyes, searching them, and then said, "If not, then tell me truly: how much time have you spent on thinking of only me since we parted?"

"Uh... " Brain freeze. Stop that, Cordy. And _think_, dammit. "Uh... "

_'He's got you there, Princess,'_Still Quiet smirked. _'Answer: somewhere between nil and the sum total of fuck all.'_

Groo searched her eyes, and finally nodded. "As I thought."

"No... " Cordelia shook her head again, miserably.

"Yes," Groo said, looking at her seriously. "At first, I must confess that until we arrived in the kingdom of Las Vegas, I had believed it was Angel that I would lose you to. Apparently, I was mistaken."

Cordelia looked at him in shock, her mouth falling open. She closed it hastily and said, "Angel? You thought I was in love with _Angel? _What?"

Nodding, Groo said, "Indeed. You two are so obviously connected."

"Well, yeah," Cordelia said, feeling numb inside. And more than a bit incredulous... "Duh! Angel's my best friend, jeeze."

"True. And you are very close," Groo said, glancing away from her, "You finish each other's sentences, you laugh at the same jests. When he grieves, you are hurting."

"Well, yeah," Cordelia said, again. She shook her head, ridding it of images of her and Angel at the ballet... "_Listen_ to me, you big dummy," she took hold of Groo's chin and pulled his head back around to her, "Angel and I are _friends_. He's like- like... he's like the big brother and best friend I never really had. But that's it! I mean... even if I did feel anything else for him, that is so totally _not_ an option."

"Oh?" Groo frowned at her, searching her eyes deeply.

"Yes! Oh. Grrf!" Cordelia shook her head, feeling angry and bewildered. "Angel's curse? Moment of perfect happiness? I'm am so _not_ Buffy Summers. No _way_ would I act on feelings that might let Angelus loose on the world again!"

'_Hey, and worse,_' Still Quiet said, '_What if you slept with the Brooding One and he _didn't_ have a moment of perfectly happy?_'

Oh, shut _up_, dammit, Cordelia mentally snarled at her inner voice. Then again... that was an issue she didn't need right now either. Because, dammit... she deserved a guy who was perfectly happy just from being with her!

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Groo said, his voice becoming stubborn, and a bit petulant.

"Well, just because the heart might want," Cordelia said, glaring at him, "_Doesn't_ mean the body follows. Not _this_ body, anyway."

"Then it is well met that you have found someone for whom that is not a concern," Groo said, nodding. "Even if it is not I."

"Wait, we're back to Xander now?" Cordelia blinked, thrown by the twists and turns this, well... not completely unexpected conversation was taking.

"Yes." Groo gave her a pained looking smile. "_He_ is perfectly happy with you. As was I. And it is obvious that his soul is not endangered by it."

"Wait, Xander?"Cordelia echoed numbly. He's perfectly happy, just from being with me?

'_Yes, Xander. Duh,_' Still Quiet said. '_And, wow. You gave the dork a perfect happy? Yes! Still got it!_'

"Yes. That one," Groo said, nodding again. "I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at you."

"No!" Cordelia said, shaking her head. "I don't- I _can't_ love Xander."

'_Oh, please. You never stopped__,_' Still Quiet said. '_The hardest thing you ever did was getting on that bus after High School._'

"Yes. I must disagree: you love this Xander Harris. I could see this when I saw you in front of the fountains, in the way you laughed, and you looked at him. In your body the way you moved together. And in the way that you stood next to him when we spoke before I left you."

Sigh. "No. I do love you. Or I thought I did."

_'No you don't. And let him down gently – he really is kinda sweet for a lug who wanted you for your visions.'_

"I believe that you wanted to love me. And you wanted to believe in that love. As did I."

"Dammit," Cordelia thumped her fist onto her thigh, and damned Still Quiet to Hades. "Groo... I really didn't take you to Las Vegas intending to hurt you like this. I _never _intended for all of this to happen."

"I know. But it did." he sighed. "Tell me I am wrong. That I should stay. That you love only me the way that I love you, and I will stay. Forever."

"I- I... " She looked up at him helplessly. Sighed. "I can't."

"I know," he said. "In my heart I have known the truth since I saw you together and wearing the rings of marriage. And I saw it in the way he pushed you to come after me. I could not have done that." He shrugged, "I have spent the past days struggling to find the courage to do what is needed."

"Needed... " Cordelia blinked. "Wait – you're not going to challenge him to a duel again, are you?"

_'Holy crap. He'll turn your little frog prince into pate.'_

"Do you wish me to?"

"No!" She caught the ghost of a smile twitching at the corners of Groo's lips, and thumped him on the knee. "Quit that."

"See? You love him," he said, smiling slightly. "If you did not, you would send him away, or allow me to slaughter him."

_'No she wouldn't, Dickhead,'_ Still Quiet asserted. _'__Torture_ _him, maybe. While she watched...'_

She sighed, smiled. "I loved Xander, once. I might still love him. Not sure. But even if I still hated him, I wouldn't let you slaughter him."

"You will always be my Princess," Groo said, leaning forward to capture her lips with his, softly. "But I am not your prince." He kissed her again, before standing. "He is."

"No, he's not," she said, rubbing her lips absently as Groo went to get his clothes and weapons from the bedroom. "He's my knight in bumbling armor." She sighed, "Damn him."

_'Got that right. Since we were seven.'_ Still Quiet said. _'And __we're_ _the only ones who get to slaughter the Doofus.'_

Oh, shut the hell up. You made your point.

_'Smirk.'_

* * *

Xander was reclined in the seat of his Avalanche with his eyes closed, listening to the Howlin' Wolf's lye-soaked growl speaking of loss, and heartbreak and fighting and fucking and razors.

The tap at the window yanked him out of smoky rooms with sawdust floors and he jerked out of his daze, eyes wide shut and then narrowed and frozen.

After a long minute, his lips twitched at Groo's equally wide eyed frozen look, and he lowered the short barreled S&W model 625 JM, slowly, from under Groo's nose. Lowered the hammer with a shaky breath and brought the .45 caliber muzzle down to lay the gun back in the open console next to him.

_'Nice moves there, Queeksdraw,'_ said Still Small Voice. _'Gonna plug the varmint now?'_

"Howdy." The left corner of his mouth curled up into an almost amused half grin, and he said, "All done now?"

"I believe so, yes." Groo nodded. There were bags on the ground just behind him, in Cordy's parking area. Groo's bags, he'd assume.

_'Yay! He's hitting the trail again! Without our Cordy!'_

"Cool. Should I have someone fetch you your brown trousers?" He watched as the big man worked out the English, and then Groo laughed. A _real_ laugh, hearty and full of humor.

"No. I do not believe I shall need them," he said, chuckling, "But it was a very near thing."

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm really not."

_'Damn straight we are not.'_

"Indeed. You have a warrior's reflexes, and that is nothing to sorrow over." Groo gestured to the other seat, and said, "May I join you for a moment?"

"Sure. What the hell."

As Groo went around to the passenger side to lever himself in, Xander reached behind the seat to the cooler, and pulled out a pair of Hobgoblins. He twisted off the cap on one, and offered the other to Groo. "Brew?"

Groo accepted the (warm) bottle, and Xander reached over to snap off the stereo. "I have a confession to make: I lied to Princess Cordelia," Groo said. He glanced down into the console, and his lips twitched. "I had intended to challenge you, regardless."

"Ah... ?"

_'Shoulda plugged 'im.'_

"Now I'm thinking that would not only be ill-met, but a decidedly unwise move on my part." Groo's expression was introspective, and slightly bemused.

"Heh. You would probably turn me to lumpy jam in a fight."

"You would not fight fairly," Groo said.

_'Well, duh! Xander's not a complete moron. No matter what Cordy says.'_

Xander shrugged. "No percentage in it." He leaned back against the head rest and took a long pull on his Hobgoblin. The Brits do good beer, he reflected.

Groo nodded and did the same. He smacked his lips and looked appreciatively at the bottle.

"The British do good beer," Xander repeated, aloud.

"I came for my things, and I am leaving."

"Ah." Xander nodded. "Figured that might be the case."

Groo raised a heavy eyebrow. "You were not concerned that Cordelia would turn you aside for me?"

_'Not so much, no.'_

"Not really."

"You are awfully confident."

_'Not so much, no.'_

"Nah. I just know my Cordy." Xander shrugged. "For, like, forever. You're not her type." He turned his head slightly to look Groo in the eye. "You're what she likes to _believe_ is her type."

"And you are what actually is?"

Xander shrugged again. "Close enough for rock and roll."

"I will never ever master the idiom of this world," Groo said, shaking his head. Xander opened his mouth to elaborate, and Groo held up a hand. "I understand the gist."

"So. Leaving, huh?"

"Yes. Cordelia loves you." Groo sighed, "She does not love me."

Xander looked at him, nodded.

"I wish for you to take care of her for me," Groo said.

"Or?"

"Or?" Groo looked puzzled, then shook his head. "Ah. No. No threat. There is no 'or'. Just, take care of her... she is very precious to me."

"I plan on it," Xander smiled. "But not for you."

"Good enow." Groo finished his beer, and left the cab, picked up his bags, and walked away.

* * *

Cordelia was sitting on the couch when he went in, eyes red and puffy, and a wad of Kleenex in one hand. Xander hesitated in the doorway for a long moment, until Dennis gave him a ghostly pat on the shoulder and a shove toward her.

Xander leaned slouched in the entrance archway, and studied her for a long moment.

"Hi there."

"Hey."

"Sucks."

"Why yes, it does, Mister Understatement," Cordelia sniffled, blew her nose. Dennis handed her some more tissue. She sighed, said, "I found your note."

"Yeah," Xander said, shrugging. "Need to go do talking to the boss things. Run some errands. Stuff."

She nodded. "I'll be ok."

He studied her critically, shook his head. "I'd say it gets better, but... " he shrugged.

Her eyes widened, "It doesn't?"

"Hey. Took well over three years for you leaving me to get better."

She stared at him, then her lips twitched and her eyes narrowed. "Oh, you... "

He crossed the room, sat next to her, and put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. Wrapped his other arm around her. "But it finally did that thing. After you married me."

She snorted and thumped him lightly on the shoulder. "You are _such _a jackass."

"But I'm _your_ jackass," he said.

"Oh, lucky me." She buried her face in his shoulder, and her shoulders shook.

* * *

The main offices at Shamar and Corey Construction, Los Angeles HQ, were quietly bustling with activity. Always lots of stuff going on here.

There was a nice, huge flat panel wall monitor on one end of the lobby/reception area showing a looping run of S&C's past, present, and future projects, including the proposed new Sunnydale High School campus. The big easel in the lobby had an overhead and an elevation drawing for the new Tokyo office tower still in the planning and design stage, and Xander paused to look it over appreciatively before waving himself past the receptionist desk and into the glassed off bullpen.

"Hey, Mellie," he said, pausing in front of the executive secretary's desk.

She looked up and her eyes widened, along with her smile. "Xander! Hey – what brings you out of the sticks?"

Melissa "Mellie" Warren was a smartly dressed, medium height brunette in her late twenties to very early thirties, with blue-green eyes, great legs, and a truly impressive chest development. He grinned down at her and appreciated the view for a moment. (Married, not dead.)

He shrugged, "Finished up at the Expo, and happened to be in Lost Angles for the day."

"Good." She grinned, "Gonna take me to lunch, feed me, and take me to a hotel and ravish me?" (beat) "Again? Or just appreciating the view?"

"Bit late for lunch, isn't it?" He looked at her quizzically.

"Well, if you want to be a stickler about it... "

"Sigh. I would, but I think my wife would object."

The squeal turned heads all over the front offices. She jumped up, came around the desk and hugged him excitedly.

"You finally did it? You married Anya!"

"Ah... " Xander's smile froze, became slightly pained. "Not exactly."

She stepped back to arm's length, studied him critically. "Alexander Harris, what did you _do?_"

"Uh... got drunk in Vegas and married my childhood sweetheart?"

"Who is _not _Anya, I take it" she decided. Mellie shook her head, making tsk tsk noises. "Ok. I know there's got to be a story behind this."

"Oh, there is, there is. But I don't have the three weeks it'd take to tell it right, and Jess would kill you if you took that long a lunch. And then me," he gave her a lopsided grin.

"Knew there was something when that wedding fell apart," Mellie said, shaking her head. "You're not the kind to walk out like that casually."

"Heh. Counting you, there's a jury of one who thinks that right now," Xander said. He looked around the office, "And speaking of Jess, I need to see the Big Boss if he's available."

"Which one?" She went back around the desk.

"Either'll do, both would be better."

She picked up a handset, pushed a button, spoke into it briefly, and smiled at him. "Jess has a few minutes. Go on back."

Xander smiled at her, nodded, and started past. She caught his arm as he went by, and he looked down at her.

"Jury of one? Your new wife and yourself don't make three?"

Xander smiled lopsidedly. "She's dubious –we have history. _Lots _of history." He ran a hand through his hair, "And I'm a pretty dubious character myself from minute to minute."

.

Jess Corey was a man of middling height in his late forties to early fifties with dark hair speckled with silver, and silver patches at the temples. He had possibly the broadest shoulders that Xander had ever seen on a human being, a slim waist and hips, and thick arms with slabs and cables of work muscle – not body builder stuff. Xander wouldn't get into an arm wrestling match with him on a bet.

Hell, even _Groo_ would think twice.

He glanced up with a pair of cold grey eyes as Xander opened his door and slid in, that immediately warmed and crinkled at the corners as he took in his youngest executive.

"Xander." He rose and took Xander's hand in a firm, dry grip, in a hand with heavily scarred knuckles, then motioned him to a seat as he sat back down. "Welcome back."

"Mr. Corey."

"Keep tellin' you, son. It's Jess."

"Yes sir, Mr. Corey." They both grinned at each other. It was an old ritual, going back to when Xander used to do summer and after school hours at the S&C Contractor's Supply in Sunnydale.

Saving up to pay for his post graduation road trip that didn't quite go as planned.

"How was the expo?" Jess gave him an intently curious look.

"Good, sir. Talked to a lot of people, saw a lot of neat new equipment, networked a lot, picked up a lot of brochures and specs and a few ideas."

"Great," Corey grinned back at him. "So – what brings you to the big office? I figured you'd have headed back to Sunnydale after?"

"Happened to be in L.A., after," Xander said, shrugging. "And decided I needed to come by and talk while I was here."

"Uh oh." Corey studied Xander carefully. "Sounds serious."

"Uh, kinda, sir?" Xander ran a hand through his hair. "Any chance you could get Mr. Shamar in here? I'd kinda like to go over it with both of you."

"Huh." There came a much longer study this time. Xander did his best not to squirm under that even grey gaze. "Sounds really serious. You're not quitting us, are you?"

"Huh?" Xander straightened abruptly, eyes widening. "No, sir. _Definitely _not, sir. I like it here. Really."

"Ah. Good," Corey nodded to him. he leaned over and picked up his handset, punched an extension and spoke into the phone for a few minutes. Leaned back in his chair again, "He'll be over in a few. Grab some coffee?"

Xander nodded, stood to cross to the Braun and poured them both a couple of cups, black. He handed one across the desk and sat back down, sipping the rich brew carefully.

"Care to give me a hint?"

"Sir? I'd like to wait and do it all at once, so I don't have to repeat it, if it's all the same?"

"Sure." Jess nodded, and they sat sipping their coffee quietly for a few minutes, enjoying a companionable, albeit uncomfortable, silence.

The door opened and Shamar of Shamar and Corey came bustling in. He was a smallish, very dark, cheerful looking Indian man going on his mid sixties, thickening in the middle, with salt and pepper hair and bright, shrewd eyes. Both of which lit up along with his smile as he took Xander's hand before dropping into the opposite guests chair before the desk.

"Xander. Good to see you again. Jess says you need to speak with us both?"

"Yes sir." Xander fiddled with his coffee cup, looking into the black liquid surface.

The two older men exchanged glances. Finally Corey cleared his throat gently. "Well?"

"Oh. Uh... sorry, sir. Sirs," Xander looked up.

"Problem?"

"Hrmm. Kinda, maybe. Kinda no." Xander took a deep breath, looked Jess Corey in the eye, and said, "I know I have lots of accumulated vacation and sick time. I'd like to take a chunk of it."

Both men exchanged looks again. Shamar caught Xander's eye and said, mildly, "Not that you don't have it coming, but... May I ask why?"

Jess added in a dry voice, "And when?"

"Uh. Yes sirs." Another deep breath, and he decided to just hit the edge of the board and jump. "I got married while I was in Vegas. I have some things I need to wrap up, some things to sort out, and maybe a honeymoon to plan for. And I may need to transfer here to the Los Angeles offices. Probably. Definitely." Xander frowned slightly, "Oh – and I may have a project we'll find interesting, if I can sort out some details."

"Ah!" Shamar beamed at him. "You and Anya sorted things out? Excellent."

"And he's going to bring some business back with him," Jess remarked, "Even better." Shamar shot him a quelling look, but with a small smile attached.

Xander's smile went lopsided. "No sir. Not exactly. See, I got married, but not to Anya."

"Ah." Mr. Shamar fell back in his seat, and clasped his fingers over his stomach and studied the young man in front of him. He exchanged looks with his partner again.

"Xander," Jess said, no longer smiling. "Why don't you take it from the top for us."

"Yes sir." Xander scrubbed a hand over his hair. "I, ah, bumped into my old high school girlfriend at the Expo, and got drunk and woke up married to her. And now my life has suddenly taken on whole new _dimensions _of complicated."

Jess Corey huffed out a breath that wasn't quite a laugh, and wasn't quite a snicker. "I'll just bet it has."

Shamar shot him a reproving look, but his eyes were twinkling. "Ah, Xander... I'm no longer a young man, but I seem to recall that impromptu marriages have complications all on their own."

"Yes sir," Xander's lips twitched at the corners. "You have _no _idea," he breathed.

Jess Corey couldn't help but laugh. "So. Um, I really hate to sound like someone's father, but like my partner just said, these things can be temperamental, son. Are you and the ah, young lady in question planning to stay married?"

"Yes sir." Xander looked thoughtful, "Well, I am. She's still talking about an annulment. In between bouts of really hot and seriously committed sex."

Shamar huffed out a startled laugh, shaking his head.

Xander flashed him a grin, and shook his own head. "Yeah, I know." He spread his hands. "I'm working on the 'you want to stay married to me' part." His grin went lopsided again, "She's weakening steadily."

"I really was young once. Really," Shamar said, struggling not to laugh."But I have to ask. Are you really serious about this course of action?"

"Yes sir." Xander leaned forward, his whole being going intense. "More serious than I've ever been about anything in my whole, damn' life."

"I see."

The two men exchanged looks again, and shrugs.

"Huh. Is she worth it, son?" Corey asked, curiously.

"Oh yeah." Xander breathed. "She's worth... everything."

Corey leaned forward. "Well, I'd have to check, but I think you have several weeks of accumulated paid leave, especially considering that you canceled the honeymoon you'd been saving it for. And some weeks of sick time."

Shamar asked, "How much are you thinking you'll need?"

Xander ran a hand through his hand again. "Not real sure, sir. Possibly all of it. Maybe not. A few weeks, anyway. Say... two or three? I call if it drags out."

"Hrmm." Corey looked thoughtful. "Your assistant, Tito, should be able to handle things in Sunnydale for awhile. If not, you haven't done your job."

"No sir. I mean, yes sir. He's more than ready to take the reins for awhile."

"Hrmm." Shamar studied him, and nodded after a bit. "Take off. And come _back_." He paused, then, "We'll see about you transferring here –we could use you at one of the L.A. site offices."

Jess nodded and said, "Nothing else, it'll be a lot closer to the airport hubs for the traveling we'll want you to do in your new position."

"Thank you." Xander grinned, stood up. "Thank you, sirs."

"Oh, and Xander?" Xander paused, looked at the older man. "We're gonna want to meet this girl after all is said and done."

"Oh, sure. I'll make a point of it." The door closed behind him.

.

Shamar sighed and looked at his younger partner. "I was never that young."

"I was," Corey said. "And you remember how that worked out."

"Yeah." Shamar's eyes crinkled at the corners. "You and Charro turned your hometown inside out. And Mescalero Arizona probably never _has _recovered from it."

* * *

There was a tall, elegantly and expensively dressed, and seriously leggy brunette closing a door and heading down the hall toward him as Xander stepped off the elevator at the appropriate floor. He gave her an appreciative look as she came down the hall.

Beautiful and dangerously beautiful. Faith could look like that in ten years, with some serious polishing.

Cordelia didn't. Cordelia just _was_ beautiful and dangerous.

She caught the appraisal and smirked at him, returning the once over in spades. She stopped in front of him.

All of his alarms went off. Danger, Will Robinson. This one eats guys like you for breakfast.

And picks her teeth with their bones, probably.

"Well, hello," she tossed her slightly tousled hair, her eyes laughing at him and her voice a husky almost growl. Smoky voice. Dangerous voice. "If you're looking for Wesley, he is in. Don't let him not answer."

"Huh." Xander grinned easily. "What makes you think I'm hunting me some Wesley?"

"You have the look." The smirk deepened.

"Ah." Xander nodded. "I'd ask, 'what look is _that_', but I'm afraid you'd tell me."

"A pity. No percentage in fear," she said. She stuck out her hand, "Lilah Morgan."

He fought down an insane impulse to reply 'Nighthawk', just to see what she'd do, and took her hand. "Xander Harris."

Lilah took out a card and slipped it into his breast pocket, patted it. "If you ever decide you want to ask, give me a call."

"Sure," he felt the grin broadening and growing lopsided. "Next time I want to play with coral snakes naked, I will."

Damned brain to mouth filter just never was gonna work right. Was defective. And out of warranty.

The smirk froze, along with her eyes, and her head tilted, eyes moving in a new appraisal.

"Hrrm. Maybe, _I'll_ call _you._" Her smile grew lopsided also, and she brushed past him on her way to the elevator.

He half turned and watched her slink all the way to the button, breaking out in a cold sweat. Hoo boy. He was way, _way_ outta his depth in this town.

.

He double checked the Rolodex card he'd swiped from Angel's offices, and got the right door. Figures. It was the one slinky coral snake lady was coming out of.

It took a few knocks, but steps came across the floor inside and the peephole occluded, and the door was yanked open.

Xander went very, very still. The hole in the end of the Browning Hi-Power looking at the bridge of his nose was only 9mm, but it looked as wide as a Sunnydale sewer passage. And the startlingly blue eyes behind it were fever bright and bat-shit crazy.

Fuck. Homicidal Emily Post and her electric Glove of Filet Mignon. Quentin-fucking-Travers and the Cruciamentum. And now Wesley Tarantino with a Browning Hi-Power.

Was every single Watcher other than Giles either an asshole or a fucking psychopath?

"Hi," Xander said, carefully. "I wonder if you could spare a few moments to talk to me about salvation?"

Ok, it _was_ insane, but it was better than pissing down his leg in gibbering terror.

"Very funny." Cultured accent. Yep. Wesley all right, gone all four day stubble, aroma of expensive scotch and body odor, and no one home behind the eyes. "You can tell Ms. Morgan that I'm _really _not interested." He paused, cocking his head and eying Xander speculatively. "I would send you back as the message, but I see there's no one to carry the body."

Oh, boy.

Xander reflected momentarily on the disheveled hair on slinky lady, and decided that 'Don't stick your dick in the crazy' should apply to women about men, too. He wondered if she'd appreciate the tip.

"Morgan? Dark haired lady? Looks like a rabid mink?" Xander did his best to smile disarmingly with his eyes. "You obviously have me mixed up with someone else, Wes. I wouldn't touch her with _Spike's _dick."

The blue eyes blinked, became a little less crazed, and examined him more closely.

"I know you, I believe." The pistol lowered, just slightly.

"Yup. We're both alumni of Sunnydale High. Kinda."

"Ah." The pistol went away, disappearing into a shoulder holster over the open, not too clean white shirt. "Hrmm. Topher something? Hennessy?"

"Harris. _Xander_Harris."

"Ah. Yes, quite." Wesley stepped to one side, "I would invite you in, however... "

"Not a problem." Xander stepped over the threshold, turned about. "Ta da! Not a vamp."

"Quite." Wesley scrubbed a hand across his face. It didn't help – the crazed eyes were still bleary.

Xander stuck his hands in his pockets, and looked around. Wow. Like his dad in the month or so after his mom had the miscarriage.

Hrmm. Stacks of pizza boxes and dead take out cartons. Check. Books all over, some open. Check. Bottles. Some dead soldiers, some walking wounded, and some yet to be opened. Check. And all over, a smell of stale alcohol, body odor, and sickness. Check.

All of the signs of a Watcher on a serious multi-day –hell, multi-_week_ – binge.

And Wesley had a raw, new red scar across his throat. Ouch.

"I can't imagine why anyone from Sunnydale would send you to speak with me," Wes was saying, "However, I'm certain you'll enlighten me."

Xander shook his head. "Not here for Sunnydale, or for Buffy."

"Ah?" Wes tilted his head, still fixing that disconcerting gaze on Xander's. Xander realized that he was already three-quarters of the way to shitfaced.

_'Duh.' _Still, Small Voice piped up. _'He probably hasn't been more sober than that in a week.'_

"I'm here about Cordy."

He _watched _the eyes change, slowly, like a glacier calving. They went all flat and opaque again, and lost all semblance of welcome.

"I see." Wesley said. "I'm afraid that I have no interest whatsoever in Cordelia Chase, Angel, nor anyone else from that misbegotten little clique."

"Whoa," Xander said, hands up, palms out. If the throat had anything to do with Wes' attitude, he couldn't _blame _him, exactly, but... "I can share with you for decades on the Angel loathing. And I barely know any of the others. My _only _interest is in helping Cordy."

"Bully for you." Wesley shook his head, and gestured towards the door. "And may you have many happy returns from it. However, as Ms. Chase espoused no such interest towards me upon her return from shagging her dimwitted Pylean meat puppet, I can not see what possible interest I might have in being of assistance to her. Or you."

Xander felt his own eyes do the glacial and flat opaque thing. The slight, lopsided half smile froze on his lips. "My. You really _are _a right prick, aren't you?"

Oops. Probably not his all time best approach, Xander thought. Just kinda slipped out there. Somehow, his inner Giles came out when dealing with British assholes.

And he'd never even known he _had_ an inner Giles...

That damned Browning was out and under Xander's nose again, so fast he never saw Wesley's hand move. And he hadn't blinked. Man was good at that.

"Get. Out." Wesley said. "Please. I shan't ask again."

A flurry of motion and suddenly, the Hi-Power was in Xander's hand, and Wesley was across the room, sprawled across the low, book, pizza remnants and bottle covered glass coffee table. Bottles rolled crazily.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Xander said, the lopsided grin growing broader. He dropped the magazine (not a clip, a magazine), racked the slide and caught the ejected round, and hit the take-down lever and field stripped it.

Wesley reached up slowly and wiped the blood away from his busted lip, leaving a smear. The one index finger was twisted crookedly. Looked painful.

Xander tossed the pieces of Browning nine mil onto Wes's lap, and stuck his hands in his pockets, smiling lazily.

"There you go. I'll even let you reassemble it. Mostly." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Before I feed it to you."

"I believe," Wesley levered himself partway up, slipped, and caught himself, and then managed to get all the way to his feet. "That shan't be necessary."

"Groovy," Xander said, nodding. "I'm easy." He sighed, "Look. Given that," he nodded towards Wes' new scar, "I can't blame you for being pissed off. But as I understand it, Cordy wasn't even _here_ when you had your moment and I'm not even sure she knew everything about whatever happened with all that. I _didn't_ know, and honestly? I don't give a runny shit what's between you and Angel.

"Hell, you wanna kill someone? Dust Angel. I'll fucking cheer you on. Shoot some evil lawyers – I'll load magazines for you." He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving the Brit's psychotic ones, "But don't take it out on Cordy. And Cordy is the only one who's welfare I really _give_ a flying rat's ass about here.

"Oh," Xander smiled pleasantly, "And don't point guns at me. It makes me all anti-social and shit."

Wesley blinked owlishly at him, in the manner of the half sozzled. "What _precisely _do you want, anyway?"

Xander explained it to him. He used small words and spoke slowly, even.

.

An hour or so later, Xander stood with his hand on the open door, preparing to leave.

"Thanks for the 411," he said. Wesley nodded, but didn't reciprocate with a response. He stopped half way out, looking back. "Oh, by the way. Free advice? Worth every penny?"

Wesley raised an eyebrow, sort of. "I'll give it all due consideration."

Xander smiled lopsidedly back at him, and it wasn't pleasant. Hyena had grinned like that when he verbally savaged Willow, way back when.

"Only thing you can do with a handgun is pull the trigger." He shook his head, "Else you may as well just stick it under your chin and squeeze."

"I'll keep that in mind for future reference."

Xander's grin went away and he closed the door behind him.

When he heard the door crack open behind him, that little spot between his shoulders itched all the way to the elevator, but he didn't turn around to look.


	13. It's Been a Hard Knight's Day Too

**Chapter Eleven:** **It's Been a Hard Knight's** **Day Too (Or also, even)**

* * *

"_I love being married. It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life." _― Rita Rudner

* * *

Lilah Morgan settled in behind her desk, thinking about her recent... recruiting trip to Wesley's apartment. Flat, since he was English, she guessed. Heh. More specifically, thinking about the tall, broad shouldered, and interesting bundle of contradictions she'd encountered as she was leaving.

Harris. Xander Harris. There was something about that name... something she _should_ be able to remember.

Ah. Got it.

She reached and punched a button on the phone, hitting the intercom to her research assistant's desk.

"Roxanne? Get me the file on Angel – specifically his past associations with the Slayer, Buffy Summers." She heard the 'yes ma'am,' absently, her eyes narrowing in thought. "And, have someone in research dig up everything they possibly can on one 'Xander Harris', possibly short for 'Alexander', possibly of Sunnydale, California. Everything, no matter how small or inconsequential. Got that?"

She leaned back, thinking.

After a few minutes, her paralegal and researcher came in, handing her a file.

"Thank you," she said, absently. "Oh – and Roxie?"

"Yes, Ms. Morgan?"

"Have someone from Security bring me the most recent surveillance from Wesley Wyndam-Pryce's apartment: audio and visual, starting from... " Lilah checked her watch, and named a time. "And have Elena get Special Ops and tell them to have some people put on surveillance of Xander Harris, once they can locate him. They can start with Cordelia Chase's apartment, and the Hyperion. I want to know where he goes, who he talks to, and what he does. Here: I'll jot a note for her."

She scribbled out a memo for her P.A., and handed it to the assistant.

"Yes, ma'am. Anything else?"

"Make sure to emphasize: _discreet_ surveillance. Use _professionals_, this time. I don't want any chance of him spotting them, or spotting any tails."

Lilah waved the girl away, and opened up a browser window on her desktop.

After a short while, once someone had dropped off a DVD with the requested surveillance footage, Lilah popped it in her drive and settled back to watch. She had no concern over anyone in Security seeing anything from her visit there: she was always careful to wear a scrambler in her jewelry and remote deactivate the bugs in Wes' apartment.

She listened to the tape, and watched the video, frowning slightly in concentration. Rewound periodically to go back over certain points.

When she got to the interplay with the handgun disarm, and Harris' commentary, she laughed out loud and rewound it to watch again.

"Fascinating, simply fascinating," she said, aloud. "This could be very entertaining. And useful."

Lilah watched the hour long conversation between Harris and Wesley that followed that part, avidly. Angel had warned her – and Wolfram and Hart in general – from ever attempting to use Cordelia against him.

He _hadn't_ warned them from any associates of Chase's, and, after all, the devil was in the details, you know. Especially legally.

"And, of course," she mused, "It doesn't hurt that Mr. Harris is decidedly intriguing. And not all that hard on the eyes, for a mere child."

* * *

Late evening, bordering on early summer night in L.A., and they'd gotten a table at Enrique de los Okinawa near the end of Route 66 where it hits the Santa Monica Pier and dies in a flaming crash.

Well, not really, but that's the way Xander had always thought of it. Especially since '66 had mostly gone the way of the dinosaurs. He'd thought a lot about that, driving the various stretches that were still there back during his summer road trip in '99.

Heh. Enrique's. Japanese-Italian-Mexican American haute cuisine. _Only_ in California.

They had the remnants of dessert scattered around them, and hot, fresh Kenya AA coffee with vanilla – an Enrique special – to sip on and help settle their repasts. Cordelia had her chin propped in the heels of her hands and she was watching Xander as, bright eyed and with gestures, his ideas for doing a full renovation on the Hyperion and what it could look like. And for getting Angel Investigations a contract for umm, special security on their various sites in the Greater L.A. and SoCal.

She grinned at an especially enthusiastic description, and her eyes narrowed and then widened slightly.

"Damn. You really enjoy this, don't you," she said, wonderingly.

"Huh?" Xander looked at her quizzically, a slight smile lingering around the corners of his lips.

"Xander Harris, construction mogul. I never would have pictured it, way back when," she said. "And you're enjoying yourself – and you're _good_ at it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh, please," she said. "Junior Assistant V.P.? At not quite twenty-three?" She made a scoffing sound. "If you weren't good, you'd still be swinging a hammer, not wearing a suit."

She had a sudden mental image of Xander in a sleeveless t-shirt in the sun, wearing a tool belt, and swinging a 16oz claw hammer... Gulp.

"Snerk. Don't be so sure. You wouldn't believe the attrition rate on employees we have in Sunnydale alone," he said, his grin teasing. "Just surviving and showing up every day is a guaranteed trip up the corporate ladder."

"Please," she said, waving that off. "Big companies don't promote people like that unless they see something that actually makes for exec material. Ability and leadership. Skill."

"Well, I did know the Big Boss from when we were in late Junior High, don't forget."

She raised an eyebrow quizzically, and he added, "S&C Contracting Supply? My summer and after school job all through junior high and high school?"

"Ah," she said, nodding. "When you and Jesse weren't working at the Sunnydale riding stables and ogling mine and Aura's butts."

"Hey – very _nice_ butts to ogle," he leered. "And we got to get our hands on them giving you girls a leg up."

"Your main criteria in a summer job, I recall," she tossed her head. "And stop that." He raised an eyebrow and she tilted her head and said, "You _always_ do that. As soon as a conversation gets even remotely sounding like a compliment to you, you jump it onto another track and or make some joke or inappropriate comment to derail it."

Xander shrugged, "I do?"

"You do!" She scowled at him, "And it's annoying, so stop it. Jeeze – other guys love to get their heads swelled by a pretty girl talking about them."

"Hey – I like getting my head swelled as much as the next guy," he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Jerk. Not _that_ head," she snickered. "And there you go, again."

He grinned at her, completely unrepentant. "Oh, hey – I see Aura every once in awhile. She's even civilized these days."

"Yeah," Cordelia said, nodding. "She calls me every so often – the only Cordette who ever does. We've gotten to be friends again – long distance friends, but still... "

"She's nice to me, too," Xander said.

"She always kinda liked you. She just got swept up in the Cordette experience and had to be mean to you," Cordelia said. "And, we wrench back around here," she made a wrenching gesture. "So you really think you could do this? The whole renovation? And the site security thing?"

"Sure. Why not?" Xander shrugged, "Look – the Hyperion is an L.A. city landmark from the what, twenties? Thirties? It just got passed over by the whole Historical District craze in the '80's and early '90's."

"It was haunted by a fear demon back then," Cordelia said.

"And there ya go," he said. "But it is. And our Historical and Classic Renovations division is set up to defray other things – it's a tax write off for S&C. It's supposed to lose money. And the site security and investigations thing?" He shook his head, "I wasn't kidding. Do you have any _idea _how many people we lose to vampires and other nasties just in the Sunnydale-Carpinteria-Santa Barbara area? Not even mentioning Greater L.A."

Cordelia shook her head.

"Lots." He stated. "Not that anyone ever _says_ vampires and demons etc, of course. And breaking in, training, and keeping experienced, skilled people is _expensive_. Cutting those losses alone just by a quarter would pay for the renovation and the security contract and retainer in a couple-three years."

"And _you_ can put all this together and sell it," she asked, her tone scathing.

"Hey!" His eyes flashed at her, "Like I said, I've known – kinda – Jess Corey since Junior High. He likes me. And I can get a couple of the kids in drafting and IT to do up the drawings and elevations and crunch the numbers while I write up the proposals. Dawn might even do the Power Point for me."

"See?" She aimed a finger at him, grinning triumphantly. "Make it an attack, and you go Mr. Confidence. Make it a compliment and you switch subjects so fast you leave a contrail."

He rolled his eyes. "Piss off, Chase."

"Bite me, Harris." She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned. She grinned back, and said, "And, of course, coming up with a way to make it possible for Angel to put his sweetheart back in the shape she was when he first saw her – or better – _won't_ ever get you on his bad side."

"Oh yeah, because being on Angel's good side is so very important to me," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Then why are you putting so much thought into this?" Cordelia asked, seriously.

He shrugged, "Because it's a shame to see that place like that. And we really could use your kind of expertise." He smiled, "And, given the amount of time I'm taking off, I could really use the bonus and the feather in my cap."

"We'd have to hire more people," Cordelia mused.

"They're around," Xander said. "And there's even Sunnydale Alumni who were at Graduation." He looked thoughtful, "Even get Faith out of stir and you have your own staff Vampire Slayer."

"I dunno about that," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"We'll talk about it," he said. "Nothin' set yet, anyway."

* * *

It was dark as they were walking out across the parking lot to his truck. Not long dark, but long enough that the gray of twilight had faded and deepened to purple and then black.

No stars. They couldn't struggle through the haze and the L.A. light pollution. He missed stars. The Mojave had been full of stars when he'd stopped there on his road trip.

Casual dress. Or semi casual for Cordy: white blouse tucked into tapering, seriously elegant looking black leather pants that hugged her hips and ass, and restrained jewelry. Dark jeans for him with a stone-wash denim shirt open over a tee, and a light jacket to cover the big knife and the stake at the small of his back.

Sunnydale reflexes: never leave home without a stake and a blade. He'd be willing to bet that Cordy had one of each tucked into the reasonably large black leather bag slung on one shoulder.

It always used to drive him nuts how often Buffy would go out on patrol or running around in vamp prone areas without even a stake, trusting in her ability to improvise.

Yeah, it worked for her – so far – but still...

"Oh," Cordelia said, letting go of his arm and stopping in mid parking lot. Stopped dead, he'd once have said, but he didn't like tempting the Fates any more these days.

"Oh." She said again, and Xander was turning toward her to see her eyes going white – completely white, no pupils, and looking like slices of ping-pong balls under her lids – and his widened.

He took a step toward her and she started glowing. Back arched, head thrown back, and a look of ecstasy on her face.

Xander stopped, hands reaching out and balanced in mid step towards her, and she stopped. Just stopped: glow shut off like someone flipped a switch, and her eyes going back to their normal hazel.

"Oh. Wow." She shook her head, looked at him. "It's ok. Just a bit... intense."

He set his lead foot down, carefully, and caught his balance. Physically, anyway. "So," he said, and he was amazed at how normal his voice sounded. "That was a vision, huh?"

"Yeah." She tossed her hair, "Or what passes for one these days. They're awfully surreal now." She frowned at him, "Uh... what are you staring at me like that for?"

Xander pointed, wordlessly.

She looked down where his fingers were aimed and noticed she was floating about four inches off the ground.

"Oh." Cordelia said. "That doesn't happen often."

"And glowing, too," Xander said, his lip curling up into a half smile that he didn't feel. "We could stick you on top of the tree on Christmas."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and suddenly dropped the four inches to the asphalt, catching herself with only a slight stumble.

"Or on top the house, maybe, to guide Rudolph in."

"Funny, very funny," she said, reaching into her purse to pull out her cell. "You're a real laugh riot. But knock it _off_ – we so don't have _time_ for this."

Cordelia hit a button and held the flip-phone to her ear, and after a few minutes, scowled. "Crap." She dialed another number and waited, then spoke into it urgently and quietly while he watched.

"Crap," she said again, folding up the phone. She tossed her head in annoyance, biting at her lower lip. "Angel's phone is off, 'natch. Fred says he went to roust some of his sources, looking for work. Or trouble. Fred is going to call Gunn."

"Does that hurt?" Xander asked.

"Huh?" She blinked at him. "Oh – no. Told you, not any more."

He nodded, then decided to concentrate on business. And, man, was it still odd to be thinking of this as 'business'. "Ok, what'd you see?"

"Demons. And some college type kids. Girls... and... a warehouse I think. Or some sort of commercial property. Something about camera equipment, maybe?"

"Porn studio maybe?"

Cordelia glared at him, then looked thoughtful. "In L.A.?" She threw up her hands, "Who knows? Could be."

"Where?" Xander stepped forward and took her by the arm, aimed her towards his truck and started them moving. "And can you tell when?"

"Soon. And, like, duh. They're always 'soon', dammit." Cordelia frowned. "Thataway. Towards Van Nuys Airport."

"Ok." Xander was in full on Sunnydale mode by now, his mind working furiously, despite the dryness in his mouth and the barely perceptible shake in his hands. "I have weapons in my truck. Tell Fred to have Gunn meet us there."

"Ok," Cordelia said, stopped. "Wait – us?"

"You said Angel is out of pocket, right? So unless you have Groo on speed dial, I'm thinking we're it."

"Crap." She started climbing in. "And, no offense, but that sucks."

"Don't try this at home kids – we're professionals."

* * *

Gunn's truck was already in the deserted parking lot they'd picked for a rendezvous, a short way away from the location her vision had given her. Thank gods for laptops and Wi-Fi and Map Quest. Gunn and Fred were leaning against his truck when they pulled in, and he straightened and walked toward them, Fred trailing slightly behind.

"'S'up?" Gunn said, as she and Xander climbed out to greet them.

"Oh, demons, badness, impending doom – usual," she said with a hand wave.

"What kind of demons?" Fred asked. "You didn't go into detail on the phone."

Cordelia frowned, sorting her impressions and comparing them against remembered details from the vision.

"Thrax-hell demons? Thrazz'll, that's it. The ones we ran into the summer between W&H raising Darla and when we got the Hyperion?"

Gunn nodded. Xander raised an eyebrow, and Fred looked blank, and she elaborated, "They're kinda like humanoid wolves, only with no hair and broad muzzles and blackish green skins. Dress all in skins, kind of Amerind like, you know: with the beads and bone breastplates and stuff?"

"And more teeth than the Osmond family?" Xander said, and Cordelia grinned back at him, nodding. Fred laughed. "Ok. Anything special needed?"

"Naw," Gunn said. "Cold steel does the job. Bronze, maybe, but steel works too."

Xander nodded, opening the back door to the Avalanche and reaching into the floorboard space.

"What kind of weapons do you have," Cordelia asked, curiously.

He lifted a long toolbox like thing off the floorboards and set it down between the vehicles, and reached back to haul out a couple of oddly shaped camouflage nylon soft-cases to set down by them. He opened one, his movements brisk, no-nonsense, and sure. No wasted motions.

Suddenly reassuringly professional, matter of fact, and competent. When the hell did Harris get professional about this, she wondered.

_'Maybe that summer you and him and Willow and Oz took up the slaying while Buffy was spazzing off in L.A.?'_ Still Quiet suggested. _'He got awfully focused once you guys figured out Buffy wasn't coming back.'_

And went back to klutzy, goofball Xander, once Buffy returned, so fast and so completely she'd forgotten cool and business-like Harris had even existed...

He handed her a crossbow from the opened case, all black anodized metal and tubing and laminated wood, and wheels and cables and swept back, re-curving limbs. Cordelia hefted it admiringly, an eyebrow going up in spite of herself. "Ooh, pretty," she said, Gunn giving a soft whistle and echoing her with a "Sweet!"

And it _was_, Cordelia thought. Not jewelry pretty, maybe, but sleek and elegantly viciously beautiful, in that way that only a fine weapon could be.

"Twin-bow," he said. He took out the other, popped the fore-end, and worked it to draw and lock the string. "Damn near self-cocking, and almost as fast as a compound bow."

He handed the other one to Gunn to admire, and he opened the long, flat tool box. "Swords, axes, stakes, and a couple of knives," Xander said, "Everything the growing demon hunter needs for a balanced slaying."

"Hey!" Cordelia said, startled, "Isn't that... ?"

"It is," Xander agreed. The cavalry broadsword was long bladed, engraved with a cross on the Brazil nut pommel and with Latin words on the blade and cross-guard. And, like the crossbow, sleek and beautifully elegant. "Sword of St. Tristam, or one of them, anyway. Other one stuck itself back in Acathla after Angel got sucked to hell."

"St. Tristam? Don't think I ever heard of him?" Fred asked, curiosity written broad across her face.

"There was a stone demony thing called Acathla," Cordelia said, remembering with a cold shiver. "Could suck the world into its hell dimension. And a priest and a Holy Knight who forged a pair of swords that could kill it, and Knight guy got killed sticking one of them into it the _first_ time it got loose."

"St. Tristam," Xander said, nodding. "'In Hoc Signos Vinces' on one side of the crossguard, 'Christus Imperat' on the other, and Christus Vincit; Christus Reinat' on the blade between the incised crosses."

"In this sign you shall conquer," Gunn said, "And Christ the King. I think."

Xander quirked a half smile while Cordelia looked oddly at Gunn. "And Christ something something on the blade," he said.

"Short trip through Catholic School," Gunn said, noticing Cordelia's stare. "Ain't no thing."

"And I have a longsword for you, Cordy," Xander said, drawing another long, slender, and deadly looking blade from the box, along with a scabbard and belt.

"I like a longsword," she said, nodding. And then felt herself color, as she replayed that in her mind...

"I know," Xander said, smirking, and Fred and Gunn laughed.

"Oh, give me that, jerk-off," she said, taking the blade and scabbard from him. "How'd you end up with the Acathla blade, anyway?"

"Was lying around in the mansion after Deadboy went bye-bye," he said, shrugging. "And seemed a shame to leave it lying there. And no one ever asked about it – Giles and Buffy never said anything after when they'd see me with it."

"Nice kit," Gunn said, sounding impressed, as Xander slung the sword-belt and broadsword's scabbard over one shoulder.

"Thanks. Got a broadsword and short-sword combo, also, from the Illuminati guys," Xander said, taking a small battle axe and a larger one with double blades out. He looked an inquiry at Gunn, who shrugged and shook his head.

"Got my axe in the truck," Xander said, hanging onto the crossbow. "I'm good."

"I'll take the sword combo," Fred said. Xander set the spare axe back in the box.

"All right," Xander handed out a belt and scabbards to her. "And a couple of shotguns in the flat case," he added, turning back to the truck to open the case and draw one out.

"Hey, Gunn said 'cold steel', not 'hot lead', Doofus," Cordelia said.

"Steel shot, double-F's," Xander said. "Does a job on most things a sword will kill." He looked at her, smiling slightly, "I heard the man. Not a _complete_ idiot, Cordy." She flushed, nodded back.

"Gimme one," Fred said, accepting the shotgun from him. As he reached back for the other one, she worked the pump, checked the chamber, closed the breech smartly, and shouldered the weapon. "Remington?"

"Day-um," Gunn drawled.

"Hey, Texas gal, remember?" Fred smiled, "I grew up with shotguns and rifles."

"Naw. I was just thinking, 'day-um', that's sexy." They grinned at each other.

"And, no, Mossberg," Xander said to Fred. "The Remington 870 stays with me." She pouted, and he winked at her.

"Cordy?" Xander asked, hefting the tool box to set it back in the truck. She shook her head, still holding the crossbow. He raised an eyebrow, "I know you can shoot," he said.

"I'm good, too," she said. "I know steel arrowheads work on these. No offense, but steel shot? Color me dubious."

Xander shrugged easily, and grinned as he set the crossbow cases back in the back. "No sweat. Whatever works for you."

"So, why so much gear, Harris?" Gunn asked. He watched curiously as Xander slung the shotgun and drew a long, heavy bladed Bowie from under his jacket and checked the edge. "Always go to Vegas armed for bear?"

"Well, there was the Haxorr demons last time I was there," Xander said. "And that nest of vamps in San Diego. And that pair of ghouls haunting our site in Phoenix when I was visiting it." He shrugged, "Got used to being prepared."

Gunn nodded, and Cordelia checked her watch. "Ok, we still got a short bit before the vision said it was critical, but no sense wasting time."

"So, saddle up, guys," Fred said. "We're wasting moonlight."

* * *

It_ had_ been a porn studio, Xander reflected. Now it was an abattoir. There were seven of the Thrazz'll demons in the big room facing the open apartment like set.

Ok, make that six, he thought, dumping a last round from the twelve gauge into the face of the one barreling toward him, toothy jaws agape and jaggedy razor bladed club going back for a swing. He sidestepped rapidly, barely managing to get out of the way of the oncoming body. Minus two that were outside the main shooting rooms as they first burst in, making _eleven_ freaking toothy eating machines all told.

Three dead now, five total. Uh... ok, two dead by Fred's shooting, one decapitated by Gunn's big axe, and another taken down with a crossbow and Cordy's longsword. Plus the one that he'd just dumped a load of double F's into the open mouth of...

It crashed to the floor somewhere behind him amidst a chorus of screams and startled shouts and Xander let the empty firearm go, yanking the long broadsword out of its scabbard...

Still left way too many toothy eating machines. And now his handgun and both shotguns were empty, and the crossbows, and it was close in work as it was too close to reload and not die doing it.

At least none of the porn people were dead or injured, Xander reflected, with the part of his mind that wasn't fighting. Nifty. Xander had a real soft spot for porn people: they'd been responsible for way too many happy hours of entertainment for him.

And for him and Anya. Heh. Ok, well two. Or three. One nekkid guy and a couple of guys who were probably grips or something. Hence the abattoir thing. But they were guys and didn't count as much...

He chopped and backed, chopped and backed, not getting past the hide clad big demon's guard, and ducked under a return swing of the bladed war club that nearly parted his hair. A quick glance around showed him Gunn in similar straits, blocking blows with the shaft of his two handed axe and looking frustrated as he searched for an opening for a return blow. Fred was ducking around one of the big sodium-vapor light things, swinging her sword at her pursuer's leg with wide eyes. Cordy...

Cordy was being slowly but surely backed towards the open apartment set and the sprawl of furnishings and tangle of lights and cables there.

Xander snarled under his breath, then out loud as another swing came way too close to spilling his guts out on the floor. He sucked in his breath, barely pulling his abs out of the way and cursing the one too many snack foods that made it a nearer thing than it woulda been in high school.

There was a roar from Gunn's side of the room, as Gunn got a slash in across the chest of his adversary.

Xander struck, cursed, and danced back from another return swing.

Danced back – and stumbled on something soft and wriggly that yelped and scrabbled out from under his feet, almost sending him over and down all the way.

Demon thing grabbed a handful of long, black, flying hair and yanked the wriggly jiggly thing up, screaming, grinned at him, and brought the war club way back for a swing that would have ended the screams for-fucking-_ever_.

Ever and a day.

Xander managed to get his feet under him, somehow – he'd never know how – and managed to intercept the downward swing with the blade of his sword in a cross cut motion that took the hand off at the wrist, and sent club and talon-ed hand flying in a spray of blackish-red blood.

There was an agonized roar, and the demon thing let go of the hair and nailed him in the chest with an open handed strike that would have caved in chest ribs and all if he hadn't been moving in to _finish_ it –

It still packed the momentum of a freight train, and it lifted him off his feet to smash into a light fixture and sprawl, sword going one way all a-clatter, and black spots dancing at the edges of his vision.

Demon-thing lowered its head, opening its jaws in a rippling snarl as it came in a hunched rush, drawing a long bladed curving knife from its belt and moving in for the kill. Green glowing eyes promised an eternity of death and pain to him and there was an agonizingly panicked scream from somewhere...

Every thing went _white_.

Snow-blind white. Looking into an arc-light white. Arctic ice field white.

There were shapes in his vision as he blinked rapidly to clear it, scrabbling for the sword hilt, and an incandescent bolt of something smashed into and lifted the demon thing off it's feet and threw it flying –

Away from Xander. Across the studio.

And though the freaking wall on the other side of the room, leaving a demon thing shaped hole where it went through.

And through the wall past that. And the next one...

Xander could swear he saw darkness and parking lot beyond that as his vision started to clear completely.

"Oh, no, you so very much the hell will _not_," he heard an icy, inhumanly beautiful voice say.

Xander's hand found the sword hilt, and he managed to shove himself up on one elbow to look over and see Cordelia levitating about a foot off the floor: glowing in a nimbus of blue-white, her eyes solid white, and glaring at the demon thing that had been attacking her; that was now starting to cower away from her...

"_No one _gets to gut my idiot of a husband except for _me_."

Everything went _white_ again.

When the spots began clearing from his eyes, Xander saw the remaining demon things turning black and smouldery, and starting to crumble into ashes and crumbs. All of them.

"Day-um, Barbie," Gunn said, letting his axe droop. "I was just getting warmed up."

.

The studio was full of clothed and naked people and demon bodies in various states of disrepair. Lots of blood, all of it the blackish-red of demon ichor. No human bodies, thank god.

And none of them were hurt, thank gods also. Xander figured his back would ache for a day or two, where he'd hit the light fixture, and his breastbone would probably have a bruise across it, but...

Way small price to pay, all things considered.

Cordy's eyes had turned back to her normal hazel, and she'd ceased to glow and had dropped bonelessly to the floor after incinerating the demons. Xander got to her before her head bounced, somehow, about one long step before Gunn, and three ahead of Fred. Luckily for his sanity, she'd come around in a few seconds to swat his hand away from patting her face.

He'd never been so glad to hear someone snarl irritably at him to quit slapping her around and call him 'Dork' in his whole, entire, life.

Now, he had her tucked firmly under his arm, despite her protests and squirming, and they were doing their level best to extricate themselves gracefully from the place and get gone.

Something extremely female with long black hair, a wide, sensual looking mouth, wicked dark laughing eyes, and breasts as good as Cordelia's came up to him – but obviously enhanced where Cordy's were natural – blocking their path, grabbing his hand. Enhanced, but still _very_ nice. Still Small went hubba hubba.

He ignored Still Small. He didn't even have to _look_ to see Cordy's glare at him.

"Thank you," said Extremely Female in a husky, phone sex voice that'd probably have given him death by aural orgasm back in high school. "Not sure what that was, but I figure I'd have been real dead if you hadn't... " She shrugged, doing interesting things to those breasts.

"Ah, uh... " Xander said suavely. "Gllg? Gllig nngg."

"What Dorkus is trying to say here, honey, is 'No problem, it's what he does, and all part of the service, ma'am'," Cordelia drawled, sourly. "If, that is, he didn't lose all coherent speech at the sight of tits, anyway."

Extremely Female laughed huskily, tossing her head. "No worries. Lots of guys get like that."

Hrmm. The suicidal part of Xander, the part that didn't care if Cordy skinned him alive, was noticing that Extremely Female had an all over tan with no tan lines, was shaved, had jewelry in her navel and nipples, and had a star shaped tattoo above her –

"Eyes _up_, Horndog," Cordelia said, jerking Xander back to reality. The reality where his wife was gonna remove parts of him he'd like to _keep_, thank you.

Xander wrenched his eyes up – oh, cool, Extremely Female had _eyes_! – and smiled. "We really do do this way too often. And sorry for the uh, staring thing."

"No, he's not, but he will be," Cordelia said, smiling way too sweetly for Xander's taste.

Extremely Female laughed, tossing her head again. "Don't hurt him _too_ much," she said. She met Cordelia's gaze mischievously, "And I'm not trying to poach. Really. It's just that I don't usually get attacked by monsters and saved by real life heroes. And super-heroines."

Cordelia's smile suddenly went genuine, and she grinned back. "Happens way more often than you'd think."

The porn starlet nodded. "And the traditional reward is," Extremely Female leaned forward, slowly while watching Cordelia from the corner of her eye, and kissed Xander softly on the lips.

She turned to Cordelia, smiled wickedly, and leaned forward again. Cordelia put a hand up and backed away, hastily, or _would_ have if Xander hadn't had his arm around her. He grinned, winked at Extremely Female, and tightened his muscles, holding Cordelia firmly in place.

Cordelia got _thoroughly_ bussed, her eyes going wide and a 'mrph!' sound coming out, and then Extremely Female leaned back, winked at her, and whirled away to wander off.

"ggrf! Oh, you _so_ enjoyed doing that, Doof," Cordelia growled.

"Yup," he said, agreeably.

"You are _so_ going to pay for that, Xander Harris," she said.

"I soitanly hope so, Mrs. Harris," Xander said, starting to laugh as she glared up at him, then laughing harder when she elbowed him in the side and her lips started twitching at the corners.

They both turned to see what was holding Gunn up, and found him still back farther in the room with an equally naked, equally hot Asian girl eying him appreciatively while a short, dumpy looking man in a seersucker suit pumped his hand, gesturing effusively. And while Fred glared menacingly at the Asian woman, and at Extremely Female swaying up to them.

.

Finally, they managed to gather up their weapons and get out of there, gathering up by Gunn's truck and Xander's Avalanche.

While Xander was wiping down the weapons and stowing them, Gunn held up a business card.

"Hey, Humpitty Dumpity wants to hire us all to provide security for future shoots," Gunn said, grinning. "And I got us a check for tonight's work," he added, waving the bank note in his other hand.

"Oh, no we don't," Fred growled, snatching the card from his hand and ripping it to pieces.

"Hey, now," Gunn said, staring mournfully down at the shreds on the asphalt. "That's my future paycheck you just killed."

"At least she didn't kill tonight's," Cordelia said, snatching it away from him. Gunn looked mournfully at his now empty hands.

"Hey! You were staring!" Fred said, hotly. "And- and- and drooling!"

"Oh, please," Cordelia said, "He's a guy."

"And you– " Fred gave her a scandalized look. "You let her _kiss_ you!"

"Let, nothing!" Cordelia snorted derisively. "Dumb-ass here was holding me in place."

"My man," Gunn said, awe coloring his voice. He bumped fists with Xander.

"Men!" Fred said, and stalked off to lean against Gunn's truck, arms folded irritably across her chest.

"Aw, honey... " Gunn looked heavenward, and went over to her.

Cordelia's eyes rolled. Xander grinned down at her, his eyes still periodically scanning the parking area for the other demon-thing. "Heh. Funny how the girls managed to stick around, but the naked porno guys all vaporized after we cleared the door. Except for the ones that got dead, 'natch."

Snort. "Not so funny, Doof," Cordelia said. "Gotten to the point where I can tell what guys are worthwhile by the ones that _don't_ run screaming into the night during a vamp attack, leaving me or their girl to face the blood sucker."

"Not saying a word in defense of my gender. And shots fired and no sirens," Xander remarked.

"Out here?" Gunn's voice drawled over to them. "Not less'n someone calls 'em." He shook his head, "And then it's forty minutes before L.A.'s Finest'll show up to collect the bodies and count shell casings."

"Life in the Big City," Xander sighed.

* * *

Late when they got back to the Hyperion. Late late – there was a graying and an orange glow on the horizon hinting that the sun was starting to come up, or at least thinking seriously about it.

There'd been a sports bar cafe kind of thing that Fred had known about where they'd all gone after the porn studio fight for beer, nachos, and tacos. And a coffee shop after. And then a botanical garden thing Cordelia knew about and liked, where they'd ended up walking, talking, and periodically stopping to sit or stand and do the kissing and making out thing.

At least, he figured that was what Gunn and Fred were doing there, once Fred had stopped giving Gunn the stink eye for ogling the nekkid porn stars. Grin. He was too busy getting Cordy kisses and making out with Cordelia to spare any attention for them.

Far, long cry from way back when, when she gave him hell for wondering aloud what Buffy and Willow were up to while making out in Daddy Chase's convertible...

And Cordelia no longer thought he'd probably die _from_ Cordy, rather than _for_ her, any more. Not usually, anyway – but the thing with the porn-girl kiss had probably made it a close call. Grin.

Cordelia kept glaring at him suspiciously when he'd grin like that for no apparent reason, but he'd kiss her again, and that would soon solve _that_ problem. Porn-girl/Cordelia kissing would probably fuel lots of fantasies for awhile. He could almost swear that Extremely Female girl looked familiar, somehow. Huh. Internet research would probably clear that up...

Research. _That's_ the ticket. Good word for it.

They'd all ended up back at the hotel, finally. Gunn and Fred had already yawned and called it quits, heading in.

He and Cordy had stayed out in Xander's truck, talking.

"What's that grin for, Pinhead?" Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "Still thinking about that girl-girl kiss?"

"Huh? Who me?" Xander's eyes widened, innocently.

"Hah. Better not get up to pee later and catch you on the computer doing 'research'," she said, making finger quotes in the air.

Damn. Innocent expression needs more work.

"Nah. Not tonight dear." He hid a grin, then frowned.

"Uh oh. And now I'm worried, Frowny Boy," she said. She leaned back, eying him critically. "Ok, fess up. You've been going quiet at odd moments and sighing and frowning all night, ever since the studio. And then grabbing me and kissing me like your life depended on it and you were never letting go."

He raised his eyebrows, looking back at her.

"Oh," she waved a hand in the air between them, "Not that I _mind_ that, you know. But... " She shrugged, "Fess up, Lover Boy. What's going on in that teeny mind of yours?"

"I thought you were dead," he said, quietly. Her breath caught in her throat, and she put her hand to it. "When you hit the ground like that, all boneless and limp. I thought you were dead, there for a minute."

"I wasn't," she said, equally quietly.

"This time," he said. Xander shook his head. "It suddenly hit me... the time before. When you did that thing on your Angel birthday – you could have _died_ then. And I'd have lost you and never had the chance to bump into you in Vegas."

Cordelia just met his eyes, and shook her head, seemingly struck wordless.

"Might not have known, until after the next time Angel talked to Buffy. Not like he'd have thought to call us."

"I wasn't, Xander," she told him, her eyes earnest. "It didn't happen."

"Could have," he said. "And what was that thing? With the glowing and the force bolt and the frying those demons?"

"Not sure... " Cordelia said, sounding a bit uncertain. "That never happened before." Xander raised his eyebrows again, and she shook her head, "The glowing and levitating? Yeah. The other... stuff? No."

"And doesn't that scare hell out of you?"

"Not as much as the other – the idea of being dead does," Cordelia said.

"That's like, major demon stuff, Cordy," Xander said. His eyes closed and he leaned his head back on the headrest. "Seriously major shit."

"And I'd be dead without it," she said, quietly. "Seriously, no shit d-e-a-d dead. Or stuck in that alternate world with Angel insane and me a big TV star, yeah. Skip and the Powers saved my life with that. And Angel's sanity."

Xander waved that off, then opened his eyes at Cordelia's huff to find her glaring at him. "Yeah. Not really blowing off the Angel sanity thing, even if it's just 'cause he's important to you."

"So, what then? 'Cause I'd like to know."

"Aren't you curious, Cordy?" Xander met her eyes, looking into them as deeply and seriously as he knew how. "I don't trust those Powers of yours. I trust that Skip demon about as far as _Fred_ could probably throw him."

"They're the Good Guys, Xander," Cordelia said, her voice sounding exasperated.

"Uh huh," he said. Xander caught her hand before it could smack him in the arm, raised it to his lips and kissed it, watched her shiver. "Good Guys don't force stuff on you without asking permission first, like those visions. Good Guys would have sent you visions showing you the danger you were in. Or found a way to show Angel, their freaking Champion."

"They _are_, Xander," she said, her eyes pleading with him to accept her word for it.

He shook his head, and she caught their joined hands with her other one, gripping fiercely. "Xander... they _are_. They have champions for good, and they send the visions so we can _help_ people."

"They treat their 'champions' like frozen dog shit, Cordy," he said. She huffed and yanked her hands from his, crossing her arms. "They kill their messengers."

"Ever think that maybe, just maybe, they have their eyes on the whole big thing?" Cordelia asked, gesturing emphatically. "Good, Evil, their opposite numbers, the Balance and all that? Not on the little details?"

"You dying is not a little detail to me," he said, and her face froze.

"Me neither," Cordelia admitted. "But... "

"But what? Gonna give me the 'Powers move in mysterious ways' speech, Cordy?" Xander snorted, and she jerked back like an offended cat. He continued remorselessly, "'Cause I heard that one in church, and I didn't buy it then. A god that moves that mysteriously isn't worth worshiping."

"I- " she started, licked her lips, and started again, "I just know that they're the only thing I know we've got to balance out the Senior Partners and the big demons, Xander."

"I heard another one in church," he said, his eyes begging her to listen to him, "Not even a sparrow falls without being noticed. You fell, and according to what you told me, Skippy caught it by freaking _accident_."

"But they did save me," she said.

"For _what_, Cordy?" Xander's voice was hoarse with the need to be understood, to make her listen. He'd never been good at that, ever, and this was way too important to fail at. "For what plans? What big picture? What agenda can be so important that your life isn't worth paying attention to?"

"I don't know, dammit!" her eyes smoked back into his, "I don't have those answers for you. Go ask them."

"Maybe I will," he said seriously. Xander reached out, slowly and gently, and caught her chin and turned and raised her eyes to his. "Because there's something really screwed up about Powers that don't consider the Seer to their Champion worth taking care of."

"Why are you doing this, Xander?" She seemed to be trying to glare at him, but her chin was quivering suspiciously in his grasp.

"Because I love you. Because I almost lost you and almost never got a chance to tell you that." His voice was quiet and soft, and so very insistent. "Because you're worth more than all the Powers and all the Champions in the world to me."

Her eyes flooded, and Cordelia jerked her chin away from him. "I saved your _life_ tonight, dumb-ass. Because I was terrified that demon was going to _gut_ you. And those damned Powers you're damning made it _possible_, jerk-off."

"Thank you," Xander said, simply.

"Dammit," she said, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. "Doesn't that matter to you?"

"It matters," he said. "And it doesn't change anything. Aspect of a Demon? In all the reading we did when Buffy had one, every reference we checked... never of the good. Jeeze – don't you remember what Lorne told us back in Vegas? That if I hadn't bumped into you, there was something 'nasty' heading your way? Damn it, how can you not be concerned about all this?"

"Dammit. Damn _you_," Cordelia said. "You just _have_ to come in and turn everything inside out, don't you? You can't just be _happy_ for me that I'm alive and that I have powers and I can _do_ something."

"I'm happy," he said. "And I'm scared shit-less, too."

"Damn you."

The words hung in the air for a frozen moment after the passenger door slammed and she was out and running across the parking lot from him.

He was out almost immediately, but it was just past the stairs at the residence level of the Hyperion before Xander caught up to her. Caught her in his arms and turned her to face him.

"Let me _go_, dammit," she hissed.

"Never. Never ever."

"I hate you."

"And I love you. And you are worth more than anything in the world to me. And Powers-that-be or whatever they are aren't worth a runny crap if you're not worth that much to them, too."

"Yeah?" She raised her chin, leaning back against the wall, glaring up at him. "Maybe, just _maybe_, they consider the _world_ more important."

"Fuck the world, Cordy. And fuck them, too," Xander said. He put a hand on the wall and leaned into her, eyes boring into hers. "I save my friends and the people I love. Sun coming up in the morning is just a happy bonus."

"You never said you loved me before," Cordelia said, her eyes searching his.

"What the hell do you think I've _been_ saying?" he said, "With every word and everything I've been doing since we hooked back up? Since we broke up? Why would I _not_ want to get unmarried and just let you go, otherwise?"

"Maybe it's all a joke, and you've been screwing me so you could get laid good and thorough and get me hooked before slapping me in the face with it for hurting you back in high school," she said, "Like wanting to hook me with the love spell so you could hurt me back for dumping you."

His eyes widened and Cordelia glared up at him. "Oh – think I never figured that out? I'm _not_ stupid, Xander."

"You are not," Xander said. "And do you _honestly_ think I'd do that? That _that's_ what's going on here?"

She faltered, her eyes dropping away from his, "Maybe not. No."

"I am not. I will never hurt you like that. Not ever again," he said. "And I will never ever let anyone or anything hurt you like that. Or use you like this. No Power or Powers on this fucking earth or off of it, Cordelia Persephone Chase-Harris."

"It's not like that, Xander," she snapped back to meet his gaze, her eyes desperate. "You don't get it."

"So, _'splain_ it to me, Lucy. _Make_ me understand."


	14. Never, Ever, Always, and Forever More

**Chapter Twelve: Never, Ever, Always, and Forever More.**

* * *

"_Don't marry the person you think you can live with; marry only the individual you think you can't live without."_ ― James C. Dobson

* * *

"Ok, I'm really not getting this," Xander said, those dark chocolate eyes striking sparks off of hers, "You're gonna have to explain it to me, maybe in small words." He leaned forward, right hand on the wall by her head, those dark chocolate eyes boring into hers, arm straight to hold him off of her. Not _enough_ off – her breath caught in her throat.

"I don't think I speak Jody Weissmuller. Just English," she shot back.

His lips started twitching at the corners, "Jody?"

"Oh, shut up," Cordelia said.

"Johnny. Johnny Weissmuller," he said, the twitch becoming a full blown grin. "Me Tarzan, you Shanna the She-devil."

"Shut up."

He beat his chest with the hand not holding him off the corridor wall and gave a soft Weissmuller yell, very quietly.

"Neanderthal."

"Seriously, Cordy," he shook his head slowly. "Why in the Nine Hells would you put up with killing, crippling, painful, brain damage inducing visions without telling anyone what they were doing to you? And getting infused with demon essence so you can keep doing it?"

"You wouldn't understand," she couldn't meet that gaze any more and her eyes jerked away from it.

"Try me."

Sigh. "It's called redemption. It's what we do here."

He stared down – not too far down, Cordelia wasn't that short, especially not in heels – at her incredulously.

"See? I so _told_ you you wouldn't understand," she started to duck out the side and he slapped his other hand to the wall, trapping her.

Kinda. Any other guy would have a knee in the balls and she'd stalk off. But somehow...

"I understood. I know your damn words," Xander said. "I'm just having problems fitting the caption to the picture in front of me."

She looked away, her breath huffing out to blow her bangs out of her eyes. "No, you really don't."

"Try. Me." Xander's voice was low and as intense as those eyes in that way that always had made her knees weak and her voice catch in the past.

"Because of what I was," Cordelia said, desperately. "The way I was, the way I treated you after we broke up – hell, the way I treated _every_one all my life. Miss Rich Bitch, slayer of egos, destroyer of psyches... "

He flexed his elbows abruptly to shove off and back from the wall to pace in a sharp tight arc in front of her. She crossed her arms over her chest, angrily.

"You – " he aimed his finger at her, threw his hands up, and paced again, mouth and hands working.

"You – " he pointed again.

"Yes?" She arched an elegantly manicured eyebrow.

"Arrgh!" Throwing his hands up again, he looked ceiling-wards, maybe for Divine Inspiration. Or patience, maybe.

"See? I told you you wouldn't – "

"Oh, I _freaking_ under_stand_ all right," he said. "I just... arrrggh!"

Xander came back to her, hand going out to the wall again to lean into her, dark eyes boring in. "Jesus, Cordy. There's like, worlds and _universes_ of difference between leaving a trail of hundreds of thousands of maimed, tortured, and dismembered bodies along the centuries and using the sharp end of your cutting wit to dismember the occasional freshman, cheating boyfriend, and odd geek in your path."

Cordelia swallowed, hard. When you put it like that...

"Not quite like that," she said, insistent. "I enjoyed it, dammit. All the pain I caused, the people I shattered, the things I said to you, about you... "

"So?" Xander leaned in again, catching himself easily on the hand and straightened arm. "Got news, Cordelia Persephone Chase-Harris." He shook his head, "You are _not_ that bad a person. You do not _deserve_ to kill yourself trying to make up for stuff like that."

"But... "

"_No one _deserves that," he said. "I don't give a freaking flying rat's ass if the Powers or whatever they are get something useful out of it, or just their jollies or what. Fuck 'em."

She shook her head, wordless. Her eyes went up to his, defiant. "You don't get it. I felt horrible about who I used to be. Once I started seeing what other people were like... "

Cordelia felt all of her justifications running out under that molten brown gaze. Sand, meet hourglass.

"No one, Cordelia." Xander pushed off from the wall again, his hands going up to run through his hair, frustrated. "_Angel_ doesn't deserve that kinda crap." Her jaw dropped open on that one.

"Yeah yeah, hate his guts yata yata," Xander said. "And you know what? I don't always buy into the separation between Angel and Demon, but I _get _it: He's making up for things he had nothing to freaking do with – and he's an _idiot_. All those hundreds of thousands of bodies? It wasn't him. It was his evil alter-ego who _looked_ like him. He. Wasn't. Freaking. There. For. That."

Xander looked down seriously at her. "And. You. Are. Not. That. Bad," he said. "_You_ are _not_ a bad guy."

She gulped, searching desperately for all of her rationalization. "And, and, ok, it felt good – I felt _useful_ being able to do something." She thumped him in the chest with her fist, gently. It was hard to get momentum in such a short distance. Yeah. That was it.

"You don't get it," Cordelia said. "I saw _everything_, when Vocah made the visions go nutso. All those people, all that pain – "

"Better," Xander said. "And. So? Adopt a Geek. Give to the Fund For Wayward Chess Club Members. Stake Vampires. Rescue puppies." His voice dropped an octave, "But don't _kill_ yourself for it."

Cordelia shook her head, struck wordless. _Almost_ wordless. "Damn you."

"And don't surround yourself with people who really don't give an honest crap about you," he said, remorseless.

"What?"

"Hey – Gunn? I can understand, he's probably not around all that much to see what all it was doing, right? And he _cares_. Fred? Only around you for about a year, you said, and for a lot of that time she was recovering from being crazy. And she cares." He growled, low in his throat, "But Lorne couldn't see it? But Angel? And Wesley? _Had_ to notice _something_, how much pain you were in, the double-extra-strength painkillers, _something_. But Angel loses his guide if you give up the visions... "

"No! Damn you," Cordelia hissed.

"He's a de-tec-a-tive," Xander said. "He can, like, detect people who need help."

"_Damn_ you – "

"And _apparently_ neither of them bothered to look too damned hard. Not if the damage was that bad by the time your Powers Demon gave you an out."

"I kept it to myself. Hid it from everyone," she said, almost snarling. "I didn't want anyone to know how bad it was."

"Why?"

"Because!" She pushed off the wall, nose to nose with him, "It was my _thing_. My way to help, to be _special_, since everything else was gone."

"You've always been special, Cordy." Xander shook his head, "And your friends are supposed to _notice_ these kinds of things, even if they _don't_ know quite what to do about it."

"Oh, and I suppose you would have... ?"

"I would have noticed."

He said it with such quiet and deadly certainly that it took her breath away, and knocked all the pins out from under her.

"Damn you," Cordelia whispered again. She seemed to be stuck on a refrain here. "And you would have helped, right?"

"Yup." Again with that quiet and deadly certainty.

"How? What makes you think you... "

"_Hell_, Cordy," he shook his head slowly. "_I don't know_. Maybe I couldn't. Maybe Giles couldn't. Maybe Willow and all her witchy powers couldn't. Maybe _nothing_ could be done except finally go to your Power's bitch and get an aspect of freaking demon." He drew in a shuddering breath, "But I would have _tried_, dammit!"

"Why?" Her eyes were searching his, looking for... she didn't know what. Something. Something important.

"Because." Xander leaned in, almost whispering. "Because you don't _get_ to die slowly like that with no one trying to save you. Because _someone_ needed to care the hell about _you_ for something besides how convenient and useful the visions were. _Just_ you. Because _you_ don't get something like that forced on you against your will until you have no real option except get a demon aspect to survive. Because _you_ rate _better_ than that, dammit. Because you're my Cordy and I wouldn't let it happen."

"_Your_ Cordy, huh?" Cordelia felt her eyes go wet, and willed them not to overflow. "Since when?"

"Since we first met and you told me Xander was a stupid name and I had to be Alex. Since first grade when we played knights and castles and you told Jesse he had to be Willow's because I was _your_ knight. Since you looked at my gumball ring with your eyes shining and said 'I want a real diamond'. Since Chad Everette pushed me into the lockers in Little League because I sprained my wrist and lost us the game and you slugged him in the stomach so hard he threw up and you broke a knuckle. Since you were my Lady D'Artagnan. Since you broke my nose when I ruined your gown. Since the longest day of the year when we were fifteen. Since you thoroughly kissed hell out of me in Buffy's basement. Since you told me you'd get me little bath toys when you thought I was a fish monster. Since you broke my heart on Valentine's Day, and since you took me back after the love spell. Since I broke _your_ heart when I ruined your Senior year."

"Oh."

"And since you got on a bus to L.A. with my heart in your hands and never _ever_ brought it back."

"Damn you." Her eyes blazed at him, suddenly. "And just _where_ the hell _were_ you for the past three _years_?"

"I was right where you left me, Cordy."

"_Damn_ you." She thumped him on the chest, softly. "You were _supposed_ to come after me." Uh. The _Hell_ did that come from?

"I got losted."

"I had it all planned out," she said, thumping him again. "You were _supposed_ to _stop_ here in L.A. after your road trip."

"You took my mind reading hat to L.A. with you."

"I wrote it all down even. We were _supposed_ to fight like cats and dogs and then make up and start over – _away_ from all of that."

"Lost my copy of the script, sorry."

"Me doing auditions out of my rat hole apartment and you with your funny hat job."

"I had a funny hat for awhile."

"And your lamer ass never showed up."

"I can't even _find_ my lamer ass without you."

"Damn you," she said again, huffing out a burst of helpless laughter. "Only you can make me cry and laugh and leak snot all at the same time."

"And look absolutely gorgeous while doing it."

"I _hate_ you," Cordelia whispered. "Only you can unravel everything in me like this."

"I'll ravel you back up if you'll let me."

"Damn you." Thump. "You weren't _there_." Thump. "You didn't _come_." Thump. "You _never_ came." Thump!

"I'm here now."

Thump. "Damn you. _Damn_ you all to Hell! " She shoved him away, convulsively and stood up right in his face on her toes, eye to nose with him. "You NEVER _CAME_, DAMMIT!" She was suddenly, inexplicably furious, "I _waited_! You were _supposed_ to come!"

Heads popped out of doors all along the hallway, like meercats on Discovery channel popping out of burrows. Cordelia whirled on them, drawing herself up, eyes blazing.

"I'm certain you _all_ have an elsewhere to be. _Find_ it."

The heads vaporized, grumbling, and she spun back to Xander, and then, without quite understanding how, she was somehow a sudden thrashing of hair, tears, and small fists against his chest and all muffled curses and wailing sounds. He caught her up in the circle of his arms and swept her in and absorbed it all, everything, his voice murmuring in her ear.

"You were supposed to _follow_ me," Cordelia said, her voice sounding broken and lost and small in her own ears.

A hand came up and a calloused thumb stroked something wet away from under her eyes. Cupped her cheek and stroked across her lips.

"I found you, finally."

"You were always _there_ before, even when I didn't want you."

"I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?" Her voice sounded unutterably lost, even to herself.

"Promise," he said, solemnly. She could get lost in those eyes. Had gotten lost, and was again. "'Til death do us part and beyond. Until suns die and the stars go out and the galaxies grind to a halt. And we're both out there waiting for the next big bang to start us all up again."

"Me and no other?"

"I need you like air needs water."

"That makes no sense whatsoever, Nitwit," she laughed, still crying.

"Told you I lost my copy of the script."

"I _missed_ you, dammit," Cordelia said.

"Missed you too." He leaned forward, captured her lips in a long, slow, agonizingly gentle kiss. "I love you," he said, kissed her again. "I want you." Kissed her again. "I need you." And again. "And there ain't no way I'm ever gonna leave you."

A laugh huffed out into his lips. "I don't think that's the way those lyrics go."

"Screw the lyrics."

"Rather screw you," she said into his mouth.

"In your room this time," he said back into hers. "We don't need to baptize another hotel."

* * *

His knuckles hurt. He rubbed them gently with his other hand, glaring downward.

"You hit me!" Angel rubbed at his jaw, sprawled in the wreckage of what had probably once been a really expensive antique corner table. Expensive kindling now.

He looked – looked, not glared – up at Xander with an expression of almost comic disbelief and incredulity. No, scratch the almost – it _was_ comical.

"And when you get up, I'm gonna hit you again," Xander said, one corner of his mouth curling upwards into a not-quite-smile.

Angel snorted, losing a bit of the comical expression. He rubbed his jaw again. "You _do_, and I'll take you apart," he said.

"Well, we're both on the same page, anyway." Xander said, snickering. "Good time will be had by all, I'm sure."

Angel reached up and got a hand on the end of the sofa, gripped it and started pulling himself up along the side. He finally got up to the point where he could straighten his elbow and shove himself upright. He wobbled a bit, before catching his balance.

Actually wobbled. Xander's grin split his face from ear to ear.

Ok, now _that's_ a patented Angel glare.

'_Gee, ya _think_? Ok, you're not wrong,_' Still Small commented. '_Now he looks _pissed_... _'

Good for him. So am I.

The vampire rubbed his jaw again, eyes smoking. "_Why_ did you hit me?"

"You were bad. It had to be done," Xander said, deadpan.

"Well, don't do it again." Angel gave his jaw one last rub, and shook his head.

"I'll keep it as a reserve option."

Nod. "Fair enough." Angel blinked at him, then narrowed his eyes. "Ok, mind telling me what that was about?"

Xander could hear startled voices, exclamations, and running footsteps upstairs somewhere. If he could, he was pretty sure Angel could. Fuck 'em. They could buy tickets.

Xander didn't even look around, focused on the vampire. "Because you let Cordy have those visions for two and a half years, knowing how painful they were, without trying to do anything for her." He took a deep breath, let it half out. "Used her."

"We tried! I tried!" Angel growled it out, "I went to the Power's conduit and begged them to do something! Practically ordered them to!"

"Oh, yeah. When it was damned near too fucking late and she passed out from one and nearly went into a coma and you _finally_ found her painkiller stash and CAT scans, you went 'oh shit!'." Xander snorted. "Color me UN-fucking-impressed."

"Dammit!" Angel was yelling, too. Huh. Hadn't noticed their volume had gone up. "She kept it from us!"

"You're a fucking detective." Xander said. "Fucking detect something every once in awhile." He shook his head, "Instead of letting a nineteen year old girl kill herself with visions she didn't ask for doing all your work for you."

The voices and running footsteps stopped somewhere behind and around the pair of them. Xander didn't take his eyes off of Angel's.

"The hell happened here, Angel?" Cordelia asked.

"We were just _talking_, dammit," Angel looked past him, spreading his hands. "And then, all of a sudden, WHAM! Out of nowhere!"

Xander ignored the distractions. "Instead of not looking too hard and letting Cordelia die for _your_ redemption." Startled gasps and a shocked intake of breath from behind them. He ignored those too.

"It wasn't like that!" Angel said, doing the affronted cat thing. "That's not fair, dammit"

"Oh, gee. Life isn't fair," Xander growled. "Wait – I'm jotting this down so I won't forget it."

"What would you have had me do? Us do?" Angel stalked forward, all loose and dangerous and vampiry.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, _call_ us! Call _Giles_! Ask for outside help, jeeze," Xander tilted his head back slightly and locked eyes with the slightly taller being. "Research. _Notice_ what's going on with the girl that hero worships you and is supposedly your best friend, dammit."

"Wesley tried everything looking into the visions and Seers and Powers, dammit," Angel snarled.

"_Wesley_ couldn't find his ass with the Pergamum Codex, dipshit," Xander scoffed. "He mistranslated a prophecy and got his throat cut trying to rescue your kid from a threat that wasn't there."

Oh, boy. They were really pulling out all the stops now, yanking bloody, bleeding strips off of each other. There was a shocked gasp behind them and off to one side. He ignored it. Angel's eyes bugged out with barely suppressed rage, and he ignored that too.

"You think _Giles_ would have done better?"

"Don't you?" Xander stuck his nose right up to the vampire's.

"And do you think Giles would have helped us – _me_ – if I'd asked him?" Angel's voice was anguished, and that cooled Xander a bit.

A bit. Not much.

"Dunno. Woulda taken some balls to call him and find out," Xander said. "But he'd have turned himself inside out to help _Cordelia_. And you fucking know it."

He spun on his heel, ripping his eyes away from the vampire's and turning his back. "Nothing stopped you from asking _Giles_ for help when the First Evil had _your_ ass on the line," Xander threw back over his shoulder. "But when it was _Cordy's_ ass... ?"

Xander caught Cordelia's eyes, wide and shocked, staring at him with one hand covering her open mouth, and froze in mid statement. Fred and Gunn were arrayed next to her, Fred's mouth equally open. Gunn was frankly staring, looking half pissed, half incredulous.

"She left you," Angel said, quietly, and Xander whipped back around a few steps away, eyes narrowing. "We were _here_ for her, not you," Angel said, his voice soft and deadly.

"Sure you were," Xander said, equally quietly and equally deadly. "I can tell."

"Don't you tell me what we were or weren't, Harris," Angel said, his head moving slowly from side to side.

"Someone sure the fuck needs to."

"Why me? Why Wes?" Those furious eyes bore into his. "Gunn was here too," he gestured. "He didn't see it either. Why not belt him one too?

"Hey, now," Gunn said. "Don't get me into this."

They both ignored him. Xander shook his head, disgusted. "Because you're supposed to be the _Champion_, Angel. Capital 'C'. Wes is a _Watcher_, dammit, even if he never was a very good one."

"Not good enough, Harris," Angel said. He looked like a big, dangerous dog with a bone; shoulders hunching, all growly and shaking his head slowly. Just needed a thin trail of drool from his chops. "Why me, specifically?"

"Because you were supposed to take care of her," Xander said, slowly and carefully. "I _trusted_ you to take care of her."

That made Angel blink.

"Yeah. Me. Who'da thought, huh?" Xander snorted, giving the vampire a disgusted look. "That's why the hell I didn't worry so much about not dropping by to check on her when Willow said she was working with you. _You_ were here, and you knew her from Sunnydale. _Gunn_ didn't – you did. I always figured _you'd_ take care of her."

Angel did that offended cat thing again, his head snapping back and his eyes losing a bit of the glare.

"Sure the fuck fooled me, huh?" Xander made a disgusted gesture, and turned on his heel, starting to walk away from it all. Over his shoulder, he said, "You know? Buffy and Willow and Cordelia always thought you were a person. Me? I always knew that at the end of the day, you were a vampire."

Xander shook his head again, and tossed over his shoulder, "But it sure would have been nice for you to prove one of them right, for once."

"And _you_ did so much better by her," Angel snarled out.

"I fucked up." Xander said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly tired and furious and tired of being furious. He turned fully to face the other man. "I'm trying to fix that now."

"Good job," Angel said. "Belting me in the mouth will sure do that."

"Sure made me feel better," Xander said.

"Bit late, isn't it?" Angel said, his eyebrows going up. "Trying to fix things? The _Powers_ fixed it. You just showed up after to shake things all up, all guilt torn because you weren't here when it was going on."

Xander looked at him for a long moment, slightly boggled that Angel could still trust those damned Powers after everything Xander had been told about everything. He sighed, shook his head and turned to walk again.

"Angelus was right," he heard from behind him and he whipped around again, staring incredulously.

"Buffy's White Knight," Angel shook his head, a slight tinge of disgust mixed with admiration on his face. "Always riding to the rescue, with half a brain and all balls."

"Trust a vampire to pull that out," Xander said, quietly. "Suck the life out of everyone around you, even with a soul."

Angel snorted, "Cheap and easy shot, Harris."

"You're one to talk." Xander shrugged. "And it's me and Cordy." A half grin curled up the side of his mouth, and he shrugged again, "Not me and Buffy. And Angelus was a dumbass who basically managed to murder a bunch of fish and an unarmed teacher in the course of five months."

Angel opened his mouth to say something, and Xander sliced across whatever it was, smiling gently, his eyes riveting the vampire's.

"Me and _Cordy_, not me and Buffy," Xander said, "Y'know? Way down deep, where it counts, we're still six or seven years old, playing after school, and she's Princess Precious and I'm _her_ knight because she _said_ so." The grin curled a little broader. "Her _Black_ Knight, 'natch – because _no one _has White Knights after Labor Day. Her mother _said_ so, and that settled it."

Cordelia's other hand went to her mouth, and her shoulders shook slightly.

"Angelus was _wrong_." He sighed, then smirked and fixed Angel with a disconcerting grin and an even more disconcerting stare, "I never _was_ 'Buffy's White Knight'."

He turned his head slightly and caught Cordelia's eyes, the only eyes in the room that mattered.

"I was _always_ Cordelia's black one."

Angel snorted, "At some point, you stop being six years old, Xander."

Xander made a derisive sound. "Shows what you know, Dead Boy."

He turned and stalked off again, exiting through the front doors, and this time, no one called him back.

* * *

Angel looked at all of them arrayed around watching in shock, and in some cases, dismay, snarled something under his breath and pushed past Gunn and stalked off in a swirl of black coat.

In the opposite direction of where Xander went.

He stopped abruptly; spun around with his finger out, jabbing at Cordelia. "Get _him_ the hell out of here. I want him out of my face. And out of my building."

Cordelia's hands came down from her mouth, slowly, and she closed it. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she said, "You know... I go with him if you do that."

"Fine," Angel growled. "If that's what it takes? I've _had_ it with him." His eyes swept across the others, and met Gunn's. "Problem?" he asked.

Gunn tilted his head, met his eyes back. He thrust out his chin slightly, "I haven't decided, yet," he said, "Boss." The 'Boss' didn't sound like a term of endearment.

"You make up your mind," Angel said, his voice rough, "Let me know." He strode away in a swirl of black coat and silk and old blood smell.

Everyone stared after him. Almost everyone – Cordelia blinked and stared after Xander. She couldn't _believe_ that that just slipped out of her mouth, about choosing to go after Xander over Angel.

"Think I'll do that thing," Gunn drawled, hands stuck in his pockets.

"I can't believe that," Fred said, eyes still wide and shocked. And slightly outraged that anyone would talk to Angel like that, probably.

Gunn just shook his head, still looking shell-shocked, but shading to slightly amused now. "Your boy actually hit Angel."

Cordelia finally managed to get her brain unfroze and her mouth completely closed. She snorted. "Right smack in the mouth, it looked like."

"I can't believe he did that," Fred said, again, sounding dazed.

Gunn snorted, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Hauled off and _decked_ homeboy."

"Can you believe he did that?" Fred shook her head. She blinked, and said, "But Angel and Wes _did_ try to figure things out... "

Cordelia shrugged. "Well, yeah. I know that. You and Gunn know that. Angel knows that. Hell – _Xander_ even knows that, if he thinks about it."

"Don't seem to matter to him," Gunn said, smirking.

"Oh, I mean up here," Cordelia said, tapping her temple. "Down here," she slapped her stomach, "He doesn't really believe it. Scared the crap out of him; the whole me nearly dying thing and having to get demonized."

"So he decked Angel," Fred said. "I still can't believe he did that!"

"Oh, I can," Cordelia said. "Definitely."

"Gee, Barbie," Gunn drawled, examining the wreckage of the side table with a smirk, "Somehow, you don't sound all that surprised."

"Hah. Shocked? Yes," she said, nodding. "Surprised? Oh, hell no."

Fred swallowed. "Y'know, even in Pylea when I met Angel and he turned all grr and primal vampire demon an' all, I was never scared of him. Ever." She took a deep breath, "But to haul off and punch him one? That might do it."

"Your boy ain't scared of much, huh?" Gunn said, nodding.

Cordelia snorted. "Xander? Terrified, mostly. Like, twenty-four seven, some days. He used to say that he learned how to live in a constant state of gibbering terror 'cause it wasn't going away."

"Yeah. Riiiggghhhht." Gunn snorted and shook his head, expression frankly disbelieving.

"Oh, he's just not scared of things that most people are," she said.

"Like... ?" Fred gestured at the shattered table and vaguely around the lobby where the confrontation had taken place.

"Oh... when we were around ten or eleven, Tor Hauer and Kyle DuFours used to _terrorize _Xander and Jesse. Used to beat the crap out of them, matter of fact," she said, her eyes going distant. "Got to the point where Xander and Jesse would go, like, blocks out of their way to avoid running into them. Absolutely terrified of the inevitable confrontation and knockdowns."

Gunn snorted, nodded, and said, "Had a few guys in my neighborhood I used to avoid like that."

Cordelia grinned. "Yeah, well, one day, they caught the three of them together on the playground, Xander and Jesse with Willow. And Kyle shoved Willow when she told him to knock it off. Knocked her down, skinned her knee.

"Both of bullies went to the Emergency room that day," Cordelia said. "And Xander got expelled and his dad beat his ass because he had to take off work to come up and get him back into school. I think there was anger management therapy involved." She paused, "And no one, I mean _no one_, ever shoved or hit Willow or me or any of the other girls around Xander. Ever again."

Gunn snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah. Did that for Alonna a couple times."

Cordelia nodded. "And way back when we were getting started in this whole vampires and demons and support the Slayer thing, we kinda hit a routine... "

Fred raised her eyebrows, fascinated.

"Giles more or less gave Buffy her head because she ignored him or browbeat him or sweet talked him around her little finger. Willow – Buffy became Willow's bestest friend, and Willow went along with everything Buffy wanted because she was terrified of losing that. Oz... Oz went along with whatever Willow wanted."

"And you?" Gunn asked.

"Oh... I was basically me," Cordelia said, smirking, and Gunn and Fred laughed. "Xander, though – Xander was the only one that would really get up in Buffy's face when he thought she was fucking up. Me too, yeah, but I went along with things more than I like to admit.

"_Xander_ was the one who would tell her whatever the hell he thought she needed to hear whether she wanted to hear it or not. Usually, not. And she _hated_ it. And nothing hurt one of us girls around him. He'd throw himself into the most hopeless fights and get hurt before he'd let something reach us. He even threatened to kill _Buffy_ once if she got Willow hurt doing something stupid. And _meant_ it."

"Wow." Fred shook her head. "So... White Knight complex, huh?"

"Black Knight," Cordelia snapped, "Gods – he _hates_ that White Knight thing Angelus slapped him with. Absolutely _detests_ it." She snorted, "And... you dig past that clown mask and goofball exterior, and Xander's one of the darkest people I've ever known. Just keeps it hidden real well."

"So, no problem believing he'd punch Angel, then," Fred said, nodding.

"So, yeah... " Cordelia shook her head, a slight grin playing at her lips. "I _can_ believe the dumbass would deck Angel and stand here and give him what for, just as he sees it – right or wrong, and not give a single damn that Angel could pop his head off without trying."

"Just because he thinks Angel stood by and let you get hurt, huh?" Gunn said.

"Yup." She grinned. "And _now_, if you don't mind, I'm going to go find my idiot husband and give _him_ what for."

* * *

She found Xander sitting on the steps by one of the ornate stone pillars at the end of the Hyperion's entrance walk, soaking in the early afternoon sunlight and whittling on something with the little Kershaw pocket knife he carried. A stake, looked like. She smiled. You can take the boy out of Sunnydale...

Cordelia sat down next to him, not saying a word.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "So. Come to rip me a new one?"

"Nope."

After a few minutes of silence, Xander snorted and shook his head, "I probably deserve it."

Her lips twitched, but she just shook her head and said, simply, "Thank you."

That brought his head around, eyes searching her face curiously. Not finding any sarcasm or condemnation there, evidently, he nodded once. "You're welcome."

Companionable silence passed between them again, for a few minutes. Cordelia sighed, finally, and said, "Angel kicked us out of the hotel."

"Figured," he nodded, then his head whipped around, "Us?"

"Told him if he kicked you out, I go too," Cordelia said. He searched her face again, then his lips twitched slightly.

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

He shrugged, went back to his whittling.

Cordelia said, after another minute or two, "You really need to stop hitting my friends."

Xander snorted, and shook his head slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "And here, I was thinking that with Angel, I could enjoy doing it more often."

She hid a grin, and then a laugh softly huffed out of her. They fell silent again for a bit.

After a long moment, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Ok, so I was kind of pissed," she said. He nodded again, watching the traffic out front on the street, his hands apparently moving without need of eyes to guide them.

"But then again," she added, paused thinking, started again, "When I was standing there frozen in horror listening to you and Angel verbally rip each other to shreds, my mind kept thinking... "

Cordelia trailed off and Xander glanced over at her again. "Just suddenly thought about when we were in Pylea and Angel and Gunn and Wes fought their way in to the palace, and found me in my Princess regalia... " She made a vague gesture with her hands, "Suddenly, it was all like it was a big... joke, you know? Gee, Cordy fell into shit and came up diamonds, what were we worried about? Yuck yuck, and oh, look – she got her a hunky boyfriend, too, even.

"And it wasn't a _joke_, dammit," she said. "I was captured by demons and made a slave and they were going to slice out my vocal cords, dammit!"

He snickered, and she punched him in the shoulder, reflexively.

"Yeah, yeah – one way to shut her up, right?" Cordelia snickered, continuing, "I was scared to _death_. And they gave me to Groo as a consort, so he could take my visions by sleeping with me. Just happened to turn out he was kind of a nice guy, luckily."

She sighed, and more silence passed for a minute or so.

"_Doyle_ wouldn't have laughed. Well, he would, but... " she said, waving a hand at him. "Like you. And you – well, you'da laughed, but it wouldn't have hurt like that."

"Wouldn't have mattered," Xander said, nodding. "Always been like that. We fight and we bicker and we argue and we say whatever the hell pops in our heads, _knowing_ the other is doing the same thing, and do the wrong things and insult each other and it's _always_ been like that." He hunched forward a bit, his voice going intense. "And it doesn't _matter_."

"Not like that, no," she agreed. "Because behind the joke and the insult, I'd _know_ you'd been terrified. And you'd probably have half killed yourself getting in there."

"And laughing and making a lame joke because you were ok," he said. "And meanwhile, appreciating hell out of the whole chain-mail bikini thing."

"Yup. And making Princess Leia wisecracks."

"Oh, yeah. And milking the Han Solo vibe for all it was worth," he said, laughing. His eyes went to her again, crinkling at the corners, then sobering. "So... ?"

"So... Doyle would have noticed," Cordelia said. "And he'd have been _horrified_ that he accidentally passed the visions to me, and at the agony they were causing me. And so was Angel, at first, but..." she made a vague gesture.

"Started taking it in stride," Xander said, quietly.

"Yeah," she said. "Kinda."

"And Wes maybe didn't look quite as hard as he could have," he said.

Cordelia shrugged. "Or maybe just wasn't competent enough to look in all the right places," she said. "I mean – he never came up with the whole 'only demons can handle the demonic visions' thing."

They were quiet for a long time together, again.

"I really can take care of myself, you know," she said, quietly.

His hands finished working at the stake, and Xander held it up to his eyes, turning it slowly for inspection. He nodded, and handed it to her, folding the lock blade and sliding it into his pants pocket. 'Nice', her eyes said as she examined it.

"Sure you can," he said, agreeably.

"Hey!" Cordelia shook her head. "I can."

"You can." Xander nodded, "But you shouldn't have to do it alone."

She sighed, "And, ok, so it's kinda nice having someone _wanting_ to take care of _me_. Sometimes."

"So, you're kinda not so mad I gave Angel pure hell just now," Xander said.

"Kinda," she agreed. "Kinda yeah, but kinda no."

Xander snorted, and the corner of her mouth curled up into a kind of a half grin. "It was just kind of... " she made another vague gesture with her hands, saying, "Kind of nice, having someone focused on _me_, for a change, and what all this was doing to _me_, not... "

"Me me me," he said, smirking. "One hundred percent pure Cordy."

"Oh, shut up," Cordelia said, grinning and slugging him in the arm.

"Just you," Xander said, nodding. "Still think Angel found it convenient, you having the visions, and that's why."

"I don't," she said. "Just... maybe," she made that gesture again, "Focused more on his mission and redemption, maybe. And then on Wolfram and Hart and Darla and Drusilla. And then on his son."

"And other people are supporting players in the Angel and Buffy drama," Xander said.

"We're all the stars in our own dramas," Cordelia said.

"Not me," Xander said, quietly.

She looked at him sharply, scowling. "No, you subordinate yourself to everyone _else's_ drama. You're happy being a bit player."

He snorted. "Not _happy_, exactly, maybe."

"Satisfied," she said. She slugged him in the arm again, still scowling slightly. "And you are so _not_ going to do that to me. _For_ me, either."

Xander shrugged, and stood. He held his hand down to her, and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

"So what happened to 'it's kinda nice having someone _wanting_ to take care of you'?"

"And you need someone to take care of?" Her eyes searched his.

"No. Not so much any more," Xander said, a slight smile touching his lips, crinkling his eyes. "I need a partner, I think. Someone who doesn't mind being taken care of when she needs it, and likes taking care of me back, sometimes. Someone who stands beside me, not behind me as a bit player."

"I could maybe live with that," she said. Xander leaned down and kissed her gently. Cordelia smiled against his lips and said, "I think I kinda might love you."

"I know," his lips curled up in a half grin, and she slugged his arm. The grin went broader.

"Jerk."

"So, I'm sleeping on the couch tonight, I'm guessing."

"Well... Dennis _does_ need a roommate."

"'K," Xander said, agreeably. "I like Dennis. He's quiet. Need to get your stuff from the hotel here?"

She frowned, then shook her head. "Screw it," Cordelia said. "Can come back for it later.

"I _am_ taking my car this time, though," she added.


	15. Long Distance Information

**Chapter Thirteen: Long Distance Information...**

* * *

"_A marriage of two independent and equally irritable intelligences seems to me reckless to the point of insanity."_ ― Dorothy L. Sayers (_Gaudy Night)_

* * *

Lilah Morgan glanced up in irritation as her office door opened. She smoothed out her features almost instantly upon recognizing Linwood Murrow, head of Wolfram and Hart's Special Projects Division, and reflexively blanked the screen on her computer.

"Yes?"

"Hello, Lilah," Linwood said. "So _nice_ to see you working on a Saturday, especially so late. We do so prize dedication in our staff."

"I'm aware." Lilah resisted an impulse to roll her eyes.

Linwood seated himself in one of the comfortable guest chairs, crossing one knee over the other and meticulously adjusting his pants leg.

"Was there something I can do for you, Linwood?" Lilah asked. She smoothed her palms across her desk blotter, smiling insincerely at her nominal boss. "Because I really am a bit busy here."

Linwood nodded, but waited a bit, studying her and letting her stew before finally speaking.

"Our psychics have come across something that you might find interesting," he said, finally. "It seems that there's an indication that Angel's Seer may be in the process of being no longer mystically tied to Angel's path."

"Cordelia Chase?" Lilah frowned slightly. "Oh, really?"

"Really," Linwood nodded. "I'm sure that you can see the inherent possibilities in that situation," he said. "As well as the possibilities for Special Projects if we can somehow suborn or divert Angel's former Seer to our own ends."

"I do indeed." Lilah thought for a moment, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "I may even see some possible mechanisms for moving such an agenda along."

Linwood raised his eyebrows expectantly, but she simply held the smile, not elaborating.

After a few long minutes, he sighed. "Excellent," he said, rising from his seat.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, looking back at her. "It really would be quite a coup for us to separate Angel from his liaison to the Powers-that-Be. Don't screw it up."

She stared at the closed door behind him for a long minute. I'll screw you up. Asshole. She shook her head in irritation and turned her monitor back on.

Thinking about the new intelligence tidbit, she hit a button on her desk phone. "Roxanne? Have the latest results from our Investigations department come back on the Harris matter yet?" She listened to the intercom for a moment, her smile coming back. "Excellent. Have them brought in."

She paused, and hit the intercom button again. "And beep Sirk and have him come into my office after the investigator leaves."

She spent several minutes looking through the background material she had on Xander Harris and his relationship with Angel, and Buffy Summers and her group, including his aborted high school romance with Angel's seer. When the knock came at her door, she called in the investigator and leaned back in her chair.

He had that dissolute look that all corporate investigators seemed to acquire, a cheap man in an expensive suit. She took the folder from him without a word, and spent a few minutes browsing through it.

After a time, her lips broadened into a grin.

"Oh, my. A Las Vegas marriage license? For one Alexander LaVelle Harris and one Cordelia Persephone Chase."

"Yes ma'am." The investigator smirked. "And, apparently, since their return from Vegas the two seem to be keeping close company together. Including cohabiting – there doesn't seem to be much in the way of any efforts to dissolve the marriage."

"Hrmm." Lilah thought for a minute. Reaching a decision, she glanced up at the investigator. "All right," she said. "Have a retrieval team attached to the surveillance group on Harris. Non-lethal methods _only_ – I don't want a hair on his pretty head harmed in any way."

The investigator nodded.

"Oh. And make absolutely _certain_ they understand that they are not to move on him without my specific and personal authorization. Period."

She started going through the material again, carefully, dismissing the investigator from her mind as he left her presence.

Cordelia Persephone Chase. Born November 30, 1980. Daughter of Jeanette Phillips and Randall Madison Chase, financier and investment broker and consultant, currently serving a sentence for income tax evasion. Mother deceased, step mother's whereabouts unknown.

Alexander LaVelle Harris, known as Xander. Born December 21, 1980, on the Winter Solstice.

Hrmm. Childhood friends, often enemies, and occasional and infrequent consort to Cordelia Chase of Sunnydale. Friend to and associate of the current active Slayer, Buffy Summers. Not, supposedly, a skilled fighter or possessed of any magical ability. Nothing there to suggest that he might in any way be a cause for Cordelia Chase's destiny parting ways with the current Powers Champion.

Oh, wait. It was so brief she'd almost missed it. He'd had an encounter with a Chaos mage name of Ethan Rayne, an occasional W&H contractor, during his junior year of high school. More than one, actually. Rayne had been handsomely paid and rather extensively funded by W&H for that little costume drama he put on in Sunnydale on Halloween of '97, she saw, in an earlier (unsuccessful naturally) attempt to send Angel down into darkness again by destroying his connection with the Slayer.

She made a mental note to make contact with Rayne and find out exactly what costume the boy had rented and worn. Huh. One of _those_ Raynes, she noted, browsing the file.

And, apparently, a brief period of possession by a greater totemic entity in his sophomore year, due to machinations from a local Primal Mage. She made another note to determine exactly _what_ greater totem.

Heh. Considering that they maintained no active interest in the Slayer, Wolfram and Hart's files and surveillance on Sunnydale were certainly complete. Exceptionally so.

A tap came on her door again and she called her next appointment in.

Rutherford Sirk, a former member of the Watcher's Council of Great Britain now working for Wolfram and Hart, took a seat in one of the guest chairs.

"What can I do for you, Ms. Morgan?" He frowned, and added, "I'm afraid I really have no further information on Wesley Wyndam-Pryce or his family for you."

"No, nothing like that," Lilah said, waving it off. "Something different. But possibly related."

Sirk gave her an inquiring look, and she leaned forward. "What can you tell me about the Slayer? Especially the current Slayer, Buffy Summers?"

"Hrrm." Sirk leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "For one, I can tell you that Ms. Summers is not the current Slayer."

"Oh, really."

"Quite." Sirk shrugged, spreading his hands, "As evidenced by the fact that Faith Lehane was Called after Summers, despite Ms. Summers' continued existence," he said.

"So Lehane is the current, active Slayer then," Lilah frowned.

"Caused quite a stir among the Senior Council members, as you can well imagine, when Kendra Young was Called and it was suddenly apparent they had two Slayers on their hands."

"I'm not seeing anything in our files on precisely how that occurred," Lilah said.

"Ms. Summers died according to prophecy at the hands of the Master, Heinrich Nest, releasing him from confinement," Sirk said. "But apparently she was revived medically by Angelus and... some boy that Rupert allowed to support her."

"That being Rupert Giles?"

"Yes, quite."

"And the boy, would that be an Alexander Harris, by any chance?" Lilah leaned back, her mind working furiously.

"Hrrm." Sirk frowned, "You have to understand that all of this was very near the time I was... terminating my association with the Council, and I wasn't as aware as I could have been of all that was transpiring with the Slayer. But, I believe so, yes. That name does sound vaguely familiar."

"Huh." Lilah frowned. "And what was the Prophecy," she asked.

"Ah. One from the Pergamum Codex," Sirk said. "Supposedly ironclad and unalterable. It stated that 'the Slayer would face the Master and die'."

"Huh." Lilah smiled slowly.

"I assume that's helpful?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you." She nodded, and said, "Have Archives send me up a copy of the Codex and the specific prophecy, would you please?"

Sirk nodded, and rose to leave. She stopped him almost at the door.

"Oh, by the way. Why is it that we seem to have no specific interest in nor any plans for the Slayer that I can find?"

"You mean, aside from the fact that Wolfram and Hart would prefer not to involve themselves with the Watchers Council if not absolutely necessary?" Sirk frowned, thoughtfully. "I suppose mainly because the Senior Partners are predominantly concerned with the Powers, and the Slayer is not under the Powers remit."

"Oh, really." Lilah's interest sharpened.

"Yes. The Slayer falls under aegis of the older gods, specifically the beings who became the hunter deities, such as Artemis, Athena, Mielikki, and Ki, that sort. The Powers work through their own Champions," he said. "Is there anything else?"

"No," Lilah said, slowly. "I think that'll be all for the moment."

* * *

Cordelia made it back to her apartment before him. Naturally – her little coupé was a lot more sportier, she knew the roads better, and she still drove like a controlled maniac. Just like in high school. He couldn't help but grin when she gunned the engine at the Hyperion and took off in a cloud of smoke, leaving black streaks on the pavement. By the time he got to the street exit of the parking garage, he could just barely see her 'Queen C' license plate dwindling in the distance.

And she still parked catty-corner across two slots when she could.

"Shweet," he said, getting out of his truck in the guest slot next to hers.

"What?" she asked, sounding almost a little defensive. Like she thought he was going to make jokes about her driving.

He waved his had at the little sports coupé. "That," he said.

"It's a four year old Miata," she said, shrugging.

"Naw," Xander stuck his hands in his pockets, leaning over slightly to study the interior. "It's an MX-5 10th anniversary roadster. 6-speed limited edition model," he said. He ran his hand through his hair. "Kinda. They made way too many of them for a real limited edition."

He hit the hood release and went around the front quarter panel to examine the engine.

"Hence why I could actually afford it," Cordelia said. "Even from the impound auction." She blinked, and looked him over critically. "So, when did you become a car buff?'

"Not, really," he said."But my Uncle Rory is, and he got me interested as a kid. And Tito, the guy I work with is a real car buff, and I started picking things up just to be able to hold up my end of a conversation with him."

"Guys." Cordelia grinned, tossing her hair at him. "Main topics: Cars, women, and guns?"

Xander grinned back at her over his shoulder as he closed the hood. "Got it in one."

"So, ever talk about me in these beer bust sessions?" She looked suddenly embarrassed: like she hadn't meant to say that, it'd just kind of popped out from somewhere.

"Nah." Xander leaned back against his truck cab, smiling over at her. "You're not bar room conversation, Cordy." His eyes crinkled at her. "You're late night sitting around reminiscing about lost loves and the ones that got away conversation."

"Oh." Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she looked away. "Well, it's not a monster like your Landslide here," she said. "It actually gets more than four gallons to the mile."

He laughed, not correcting her intentional mislabeling of the Avalanche.

"Mostly a company truck," he said, patting the big vehicle on the door. "Except I mostly own it and get to use it all the time. But S&C pays for it and carries the insurance," he said, shrugging. "My regular car is a plain old Chrysler Cirrus sedan."

"What happened to that Bel Air convertible you had, back when...?" Cordelia asked, suddenly curious. "That was... actually kinda nice." She smiled at him, adding, "Even if I _did_ give you grief over thinking that a _car_ made you cool."

"Uncle Rory repossessed it when he got his license back near the end of school."

"Ah." She said, nodding. "Shame, I liked that. Huh, kinda had pictured you taking that on your fifty state tour."

"Naw. Rory loaned me that '61 Impala SS from his collection for the road trip, remember?" Xander said, shaking his head. "Which is the one that blew a major engine part coming back home through Oxnard in early August."

She snorted, picturing that. "So you walked back to Sunnydale?"

"No... " Xander said, laughing. "Not exactly. Got a job so I could earn enough to get it fixed."

"Oh?" Cordelia was grinning also, sensing something. "What?"

He looked at her sidelong, shrugged. "Dishwasher at the Fabulous Ladies Nightclub on the outskirts of Ventura. And after the first three nights, uh, dancer."

"Oh, my gods," she giggled, then threw back her head, howling.

He grinned, sticking his hands in his pockets and riding it out. After several minutes, she finally wound down and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands.

"I made _great_ tips," Xander said, setting her off again.

"Oh, I'll just _bet_ you did," Cordelia said, her eyes widening, "Tens and twenties in your waistband?" She collapsed against her car, giggling.

Xander waggled his eyebrows at her, and shrugged.

"Oh. My. Gods," she said again finally, gasping. "Does Buffy know?"

"She knows about the dishwashing," he said. "No power on this earth would make me tell her about the dancing." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I still do have my break-a-way fireman's outfit, though."

"Oh, gods," she shook her head, snickering. "So, gonna give me a private lap dance, Mr. Harris?"

"Why, sure, Mrs. Harris," he waggled his eyebrows again. "But my outfits and props are in Sunnydale."

"We'll work around that," she said. She laughed again, "So, you blew up your graduation present on the road trip."

"And had to work as a stripper to fix it, yup," he said. "Only that wasn't my graduation present." She looked at him. "When I got back, Uncle Rory gave me an old in-the-works '69 Shelby out of his collection for surviving high school. Me and Tito have been slowly restoring it," he grinned at her. "Anya calls – called – it my boy's toy."

"That I can picture," she said, nodding. "Giles still drive that rubber band and baling wire antique?"

"Oh, no," Xander started laughing again. "It got wrecked when Ethan Rayne turned him into a Fyarl demon, and he got himself a bright red BMW mid-life crisis mobile."

"God. I can't picture Giles with a real car," Cordelia said.

"Well, upkeep on those hamsters was getting expensive," Xander said, shrugging. "So... what now? Now that you're fired, I mean?"

"Oh," Cordelia waved a hand airily. "I doubt that I'm _fired_, exactly. Sooner or later, probably sooner, Angel will apologize and ask me why I haven't been coming to work. Or I'll have a vision for him."

"Which doesn't exactly not reinforce my point."

"Stop," Cordelia said, aiming a forefinger at him, "Don't go back there," she warned.

He up his hands in surrender, and nodded. "So," he said, "Wanna go to Sunnydale with me?"

"Huh." Cordelia frowned. "Want to? _Hell_ no. But I guess we need to at some point."

"Yeah," Xander said. "Sooner or later, if we're really gonna do this, gotta tell the gang we're married."

"Oh, joy," she gave him a bright, white, and very fake toothpaste grin. "No, not want to. But I guess I can survive it."

He looked at her under lowered brows. "It's Sunnydale. Don't tempt fate."

"Heh. So very true," she said. She shrugged. "So. When?"

"Oh... Monday? Maybe Tuesday?" He looked thoughtful, then added, "Meanwhile, it's weekend in sunny L.A. and we're at loose ends. Let's go to the Magic Kingdom."

"Gee, haven't we already _done_ that every night so far, Brain?"

"I meant _Disneyland_, Pinky. Getcher mind outta the gutter Mrs. Harris, you horny wench."

* * *

He took a deep breath, and then another one. He couldn't quite seem to _get_ enough oxygen for some reason.

He dithered for a few minutes making sure he had the time zone conversion right. For, like, only the twentieth time.

After a bit, he got his phone card out and managed to enter the codes, and then the digits for the number. Why the hell did overseas numbers have to have so many digits? They make 'em that way so you have more chances to mis-dial?

Somewhere, across the continent and over an ocean, connections clicked and the other phone started ringing.

Didn't seem like a ring should be that loud or that clear across several thousand miles. Seemed like it should be muted by the distance.

After a time – way too long a time, he'd been on the verge of hanging up – someone picked it up on the other end.

_{Hello?} _Sounded slightly breathless and the voice was familiar. There was years, eons, of high school and musty books, and 'Please don't put your feet on the table' in that voice.

"Giles?"

_{Yes. Hello, who.. ? Xander?}_

"Yeah, it's me, Giles. Hey."

_{Xander! How are you? __Good Lord. __It's so very good to hear from you.}_ He froze inside, for long moments. After a bit, he managed to unfreeze.

"Hold that thought, Giles. You may not think so by the time I'm done here."

A sudden, sharp intake of breath on the other end, and a pause. _{Xander? Is everything all right? Is Buffy... ?}_

"No, no. Buffy's ok. Well, kinda. I mean, no one's dead or maimed or anything."

_{Oh, thank God. When you said that, I thought... }_

"Sorry. Not what I meant."

_{Right, then.} _Pause. Then, _{It really is good to hear your voice then. But if I might ask –_ _}_

"I got married."

_{Well, yes. To Anya. Congratulations. And I really __am_ _dreadfully sorry that –_ _}_

"Uh. Not to Anya."

Heh. Funny how he could almost _hear_ Giles pinching the bridge of his nose in that familiar, pained gesture of exasperation.

_{I'm sorry. But I'm afraid I'm starting to feel as though I'm in one of those dreadful American sitcoms or something here. Did- did you say... ?}_

"Or a Laurel and Hardy routine, yeah. And, yes: I got married. _Not_ to Anya – that fell through. There was a demon thing and, well, wedding go blooey. All she wrote. Good thing you didn't fly all the way over."

_{Ah. All right. So... }_

"Cordelia. Cordelia Chase. I got married to Cordelia Chase." There. It was out, and that wasn't so hard, kinda.

_{I... see. All right. I believe I'm going to find somewhere to sit down, as I'm beginning to feel this is going to be a very long conversation.}_

He couldn't help but grin. That tone of voice was so dry you could use it in martinis.

_{All right. I believe I'm a bit more settled for this now. I'd offer you some tea, but I don't believe the technology is up to that yet.}_

"Heh. No." He took a deep breath, let part of it out. Like preparing for a long range shot, oddly enough. "Ok. I got married to Cordelia Chase. In Las Vegas. We got drunk and woke up married."

Babbling. Oh dear gods he was babbling.

There was a huff of a laugh on the other end of the line. He could picture Giles sitting there and pulling off his glasses – already spotless glasses – to wipe them carefully.

_{My dear boy. I realize you're of an age where grand gestures and grand catastrophe go hand in hand. But one really doesn't need to be cliché about them.}_

"I know, right? It's like something from a Lenny Bruce routine."

_{I'm amazed you even know who Lenny Bruce was.}_

"Hey. Late night cable TV. It really is educational."

_{I'm sure.}_ There was a pause, then. _{As I gather there were no invitations sent out, I shan't_ _apologize_ _for missing the wedding this time.}_

"Heh. No – it wasn't that kind of wedding. But what I remember of it was priceless."

_{Quite. I'm assuming tequila was involved?}_

Huh. "Uh, yeah? How did you - "

Swear he could hear the eye-roll all the way across the Atlantic. _{Hard as it may be to believe, I really was twenty, once. Back in the Paleozoic, yes, but we did have tequila back then. And drunken debauchery. And tequila was at the root of any number of mine and Ethan's examples of those.}_

Couldn't help it. Xander started laughing, and it took him a long moment to wind down.

"You need to come back."

Wow. Hadn't planned on blurting it out quite like that. No deep breath and windup even, it just kinda came outta nowhere.

_{Beg pardon?}_

Deep breath, half out, so it doesn't come out all in a breathless rush. "You need to come back, Giles. Here. Home. Sunnydale."

_{I- I- I'm sorry. I- I really... }_

"No. You _need_ to come back. Buffy is spiraling down and out, and she's sleeping with Spike. _Spike_, for gods sake. Sex. With Spike. Dawn is hanging on by her teeth and toenails. Anya's a mess, which is my fault. Willow is losing herself more and more in the magic. Her and Tara are broken up. No one can really reach her, not even me. Maybe _especially_ not me."

_{I... I see.}_

"And I can't do it any more. Not by myself." He let out a laugh that sounded slightly hysterical to his own ears, God only knows what it sounded like on Giles end. "I can't be one of the only two adults in this mess any more. Considering that my relationship with adulthood is only passing and firing broadsides at it, anyway. Just can't."

_{I- }_ There was a pause, an indrawn breath, and a long sigh on the other end. _{I believe that you are undervaluing yourself, Xander.}_

"I get that, Giles. And I get that you thought you had good reasons for leaving, but they're not _good_ enough. They _need_ you, Giles." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "We need you. And I never thought I'd admit this, but _I_ need you."

Long silence this time. Finally... _{I see.}_

"Probably not. I mean: not Giles-the-father-figure I need you. Giles the Watcher. Giles the Librarian. I need your brain, Giles." He shook his head, "Ok, the _others_ need Giles the dad, and someone really needs to talk to Will that she has a hope in hell of listening to, but I – "

{_Xander_.} Giles cut him off in mid babble. Thank god. _{Tell me about it.}_

"It's Cordelia. This thing with the visions – oh, gods. Do you know about the visions?"

_{Hrmm. I seem to recall Willow, a couple of years ago, mentioning that Cordelia had become a Seer, somehow? I'm a bit vague on the whole subject. I gather Willow was also.}_

"Yeah. Ok... " He took another deep breath to give him moments to gather his thoughts. "Angel had a guide. A seer. Named Doyle something. And he died and somehow these Powers decided to pass the visions on to Cordy through him. And they were _killing_ her, Giles. Slowly. And then – "

_{Wait.}_ He could hear rustling paper, and pages turning. Amazing how good phone technology was these days. _{And they're still killing her? And nothing has been done about it?}_

"No. Yes. Well, kinda." He took another deep breath, wiped his hand through his hair. "Yes, Angel and Wes looked into it. Kinda. And no, she's not dying at the moment, or so she says."

_{All right. Go on. I'm listening.}_

And, gods, that was always the thing about Giles. He listened, _really_ listened to them. Even when he was irritated at their foolishness or lack of attention, or so angry he couldn't see straight – he _listened_. And heard what they were saying.

He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed that, the past several months.

"She... ok, on her birthday she says there was this mystical journey thing. Experience, something. And one of the Powers agents made her an offer and gave her an aspect of a demon or something, and it fixed her. Supposedly."

A sharp intake of breath on the other end. They took this sort of thing seriously, since Buffy nearly died from getting a demon aspect once.

_{Powers... Powers... the Powers that Be, perhaps?}_

"That's what Cordy calls them, yeah."

_{All right. Do you know what kind of demon?}_

"No. Not clear on that."

_{What can you tell me about it?}_

He wracked his brain, trying to remember every single scrap of information he'd gathered about the whole thing. He wished he'd taken notes. Yeah, right. Cordy would have skinned him if she'd seen him watching her and jotting things down in a notebook.

"Glowy. She can levitate and glow. And she can, like, flash fry whole other demon infestations. Sometimes. Light powers kinda, like Dazzler in the comics, only without the music thing. And the visions don't cause her massive splitting headaches any more – I've watched her have a couple of them. Says they're more like Salvador Dali on acid now, if that helps. And a force shove thing, kind of like Luke Skywalker. None of it controllable, so far."

_{Hrmm.}_

"Yeah. Any of that help?"

_{Possibly. It'll take some research.}_ Pause. _{Do you know anything about the err, Powers agent_ _who offered Cordelia the demon aspect?}_

"Huh. A little. Tall, big, kinda armored metallic. With, like, branching horns. Name of... Kip? Rover? Skippy? Skip! That's it, Skip."

_{Hrmm. Rather surprised it wasn't that Whistler demon mentioned by Buffy and Angel. Interesting.}_

"Does that mean something to you?"

_{Possibly. I'll have to look up a few things. But there's a niggling familiarity with that description in the back of my mind, for some reason.}_

"Cool."

There was a pause, and then. _{And you say Wesley's researched this? Have you spoken to him?}_

"Uh... kinda. It wasn't helpful."

There was a snort on the other end of the line. _{Why am I not surprised. Prat.}_

"Wes is... kinda on the outs with Angel and the crew right now. And drinking heavily. And psychotic. And possibly sleeping with a bad guy. Girl. We had words. And a blow was involved."

_{Wesley punched you?}_

"Uh. Reverse the imagery, Giles. He pissed me off. I decked him."

He had to put the conversation on pause for a few moments, because there was too much laughter on the other end of the line for him to get a word in.

_{Dear lord. I do wish I had seen that. You don't know how often I wanted to do that after he arrived in Sunnydale.}_

"Heh. I enjoyed it way, way too much. It wasn't helpful."

_{I'm certain it wasn't.}_ Pause. _{Prat. I realize_ _that Angel will never be a favorite person of mine, and my relationship_ _with Wesley was... strained, at best, but someone really should have called long before things ever reached this stage.}_

"I said that thing. It wasn't helpful either."

_{Yes, I'm sure.} _Pause. _{Very well.}_

"Can you help?"

_{Possibly.}_ There was another pause. _{So, I am assuming that this marriage isn't a thing of momentary convenience? You and Cordelia are... }_

"Hell, no. I'm in this for the long haul, Giles."

_{And Cordelia? Is she also in it for the long stretch?}_

"Yeah." He paused, thinking. "Uh. Well, she still mentions annulment whenever she's annoyed with me, which is like every five minutes or so, but... "

Chuckle. _{The two of you have always had a- a- rather volatile relationship.}_

"In a word, yeah," he grinned. "But yeah, we settled that, I think. We - " He didn't know how to describe that conversation in the hall at the Hyperion, or Cordy turning into a crying, screaming, thrashing battering mess wailing that he'd never shown up. And it was too private a thing for the phone, anyway. So – "Yeah. We settled that thing."

_{Xander. I- I- I am somewhat aware that marriages brought about by alcohol and run away passions can be... ephemeral, at times. So I am only asking this because I am concerned: are you absolutely sure about this?}_

"Giles." He didn't, couldn't really blame Giles for the question, but still... "I have never been more certain of anything in my life. I've never been more certain of anything in _Cordelia's_ life."

_{I bow to your certainty, then. And I do hope you're correct.}_ Pause. _{Congratulations are in order, then.}_

"Thanks." He thought for a moment, remembered. "Oh. Ok, _will_ you help?"

The voice on the other end of the line sounded surprised when it came back. Mildly shocked, even. _{W- why, of course. Was there any doubt?}_

He felt the grin split his face from ear to ear. "No. Not really."

_{Xander.}_ The tone was reproving and a bit disappointed. _{I am __not_ _and never have been the most demonstrative of people, not in word nor action, I know. But Cordelia is one of my __children__, as are you. There is __nothing_ _I would not do if any of you were in true danger. You really should know that.}_

"I did. I do." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "But it's kinda nice to hear it."

Chuckle. _{Yes. I do seem to be becoming my father, the older I get.}_

"Then your dad must be one hell of a guy."

There was a sudden intake of breath, let out slowly. _{Why yes, I suppose he is. Thank you.}_

"Naw. Thank _you_."

_{Yes, well... }_ There was the sound of rustling, puttering, and glasses cleaning on the other end for a bit. _{It will, you realize, take me a few days to settle some things here in Bath. And to select and pack up whatever references I shall need to supplement the ones I have in storage in Sunnydale. And then probably a day or so to fly there from Great Britain.}_ Pause. _{Will that be sufficient dispatch?}_

"Yeah. Well, unless Willow melts down in the meantime. Or Sunnydale falls into a crater."

Another chuckle. _{I do hope neither of those occurs. I shall endeavor to hurry.}_

"Thanks. Uh... Giles?"

_{Yes?}_

"Why did you leave?"

There was a lengthy silence on the other end, then... _{Why did you end your relationship with Cordelia by having an affair with Willow, __all those years ago__?}_

Ouch. "Uh. I was young and stupid?" It sounded weak even to his ears.

Chuckle, again. _{Substitute 'old' for young in that sentence, and you have your answer.}_

"Oh."

Another chuckle, sounding a bit rueful. _{We never really outgrow the will to be stupid, no matter how old we get. So long, Xander.}_

"So long, Giles. Call my cell."

He sat there grinning for a long time, holding the receiver until the enh-enh-enh-enh sound of the broken connection made him put it down.

* * *

"Cordy?"

He walked into the bedroom to find her lying on her stomach on the bed reading, with her legs bent and crossed at the ankles, feet up in the air. And wearing a little bit of lace and black silk that temporarily derailed him and sent his mind into gibbering and drooling spasms.

"Yeah?" Cordelia looked up, saw his expression and grinned. "Oh, jeeze. You've seen me in less, and recently."

"Umina?" Xander blinked, and cleared his mind with a massive effort. "Uh. Oh – umm, why do you have a human skull in your bathroom cabinet?"

"Huh? Oh, that," she turned a page in her book and shrugged. "It's for Dennis."

"Aww. You bought your ghost a skull," he said. "That's so _cute_!"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up." She said, "No. I mean, it belongs to Dennis. It's his skull."

"Oh-kay," he drawled. "You kept Dennis' skull?"

"Well, yeah. And what were you doing in the bathroom cupboard, anyway?"

"Oh. I, uh, dropped the hand soap in the toilet," Xander said. "And needed a new bar. Figured you wouldn't want to use that one again."

"Eww." She wrinkled her nose. "Figured that right. And I'm _so_ not going to ask why you had the hand soap over the toilet."

"It slipped." She raised an eyebrow. "Was one hell of a slip. More of a jump, really. And why did you keep Dennis' skull?" He sat on the end of the bed, looking down at her. Nice view. Hummana.

"Just not gonna let that go, huh?" Cordelia sighed. "Ok, so I was reading once, and when we found him in the apartment wall, I got to thinking that maybe it could be enchanted so he could stay in it if I ever had to move or anything. Like Bob."

A slow grin spread across his lips.

"What?"

"You mean you've _read_ the Dresden Files?"

"What?" She rolled her eyes and huffed at him. "I do _read_, you know."

"Cosmo, E!, Vanity Fair, romance, even poetry and literature, etc. But _Cordelia Chase _reading _fantasy_?"

"Oh, shut up," Cordelia said. "And it's urban fantasy."

"Which is about wizards, vampires, ghouls, spells, and witches," Xander said, smirking. "Kinda like your real life."

"Yeah, but this is fiction," Cordelia said. "And Harry's cool, in a kind of a scruffy, beat up, noir kind of way.

He leaned over and grasped the upper edge of her paperback and pulled it up, against her protestations, so he could see the cover. "And oh my God, you're reading 'Summer Knight', even."

"Hey! You'll bend it." Cordelia yanked the book away from him, sticking her tongue out at him. "And so what if I am?"

"You, are a Geek," Xander said, accusingly.

"I _so_ am _not_. I just like the Dresden Files, that's all."

"Geek," he accused. "Hey! I saw a spell for that once."

"Huh?"

"In one of Giles' books," he said, nodding. "For relocating the anchor of a ghost or spirit. Back when we were researching the lover's haunting in our junior year. The Romeo ghosts?"

"Oh, God. And you remembered that all these years?" Cordelia shook her head. "You have a mind like my Aunt Sophia's attic." She frowned thoughtfully, "But useful."

He grinned and threw himself onto the bed fully, repositioned himself and rolled over to lie on his stomach next to her. He started laying a line of kisses along her bare shoulder.

"I have other uses, Mrs. Harris," he said.

"Oh god." She closed the paperback and tossed it over on top of the dresser. She rolled onto her back, looking up at him. "Just so long as you washed your hands after fishing the soap out of the toilet, Mr. Chase."


	16. All Revved Up

**Chapter Fourteen: All Revved Up (With No ****Place**** We Want to Go)**

* * *

"_Doing the best thing right away is much better than doing the second-best thing after much hesitation. I didn't say it's __easier__, mind, just better." _– Walter Slovotsky

* * *

"Crap," Xander said. "They done got us surrounded."

"Less talking, Harris," Angel said, "More hitting." He swung and cut a demon slug – a sluk – that was jumping at him out of the air.

Somehow, they'd ended up back at the Hyperion on Monday evening and gotten swept into fighting off a horde of marauding, dessicating, slug demons. Slug demons chased out of their own dimension by something called "The Destroyer". Hey now, there's a name to run away from really fast.

Actually, he knew _how_ they got here: Cordelia, vision thing. Duh.

Now, Fred was infected, Gunn had run off somewhere, and he, Angel, and Cordy were trapped in the Hyperion's kitchen while Lorne tried taking care of Fred and Gruesome-lug was guarding them.

"Cordy," Angel shouted, "I told you to get out of here, dammit."

"Make me," Cordelia said. She stuck her tongue out at him. Xander, his eyes frantically attempting to watch Cordelia's back and everything else, suddenly spotted a pair of sluks on a counter near Angel preparing to leap.

"Angel! Incoming, four o'clock!"

Angel whirled, cutting both sluks out of the air, his sword slicing each down the middle. Goddamn vampire. "Thanks. Now get Cordelia the hell out of here."

Cordelia glared at Angel, and Xander said, "Nothing doing, Deadboy. I'm a _lot_ more afraid of my wife than I am of you."

She shot him a wide grin and Xander winked back at her. He slapped a sluk out of the air with his small battle-axe and knelt swiftly to smack it with the flat of his double headed axe. Squished slug demon guts spurted. Eww. He started to rise, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted another one, launching itself from a wire-rack toward Cordelia's head.

From behind.

"Cordy!" It was all he had time to get out. He lunged upward in that direction, knowing he'd never make it.

Cordelia's hand snapped out behind her as she turned slightly, catching the sluk in mid-leap.

Xander blinked, startled. So did Angel. So did Cordy. The sluk squirmed and wriggled in her hand, trying to get loose to jump down her throat.

"Oh no you don't," she said. Her hand started to glow and her eyes widened. "Crap... " The glow strengthened and began to move up her arm and then into her head.

Cordelia's eyes rolled back into her head, and she yelled, "Xander, Angel... what the... hell..."

Bright white light burst out in a flood from Cordelia's eyes and open mouth, striking the squirming slug in her hand and blasting it to disintegrating fragments.

Everything froze, including the other sluks.

"Hello, that's a new one," Xander said. He rose the rest of the way to his feet, starting to move to stand at Cordy's back while watching the suddenly still sluks from the corner of his eyes, nervously.

The light faded as quickly as it began, and her eyes rolled back down, leaving her gasping out short panting breaths. "... is _happening_ to me?"

Xander met her eyes, opening his mouth to say something, anything, when a flash of white light burst out of Cordelia's entire body with a dull whoomp of sound and Angel threw up his arm to shield his eyes. Everything suddenly went _white_.

The light flooded the entire room, as it had at the porn studio, and all of the sluks let out a horrific squeal of pain and exploded.

* * *

"Hoo boy," Xander said, slumping. Cordelia echoed it and slumped against him, her arm around his waist. Groo scowled slightly, then cleared his face to impassivity with a visible effort. Xander somehow managed not to grin.

They'd come out into the lobby after the flash-bulb treatment to find that, apparently, Cordelia's light-bulb effect had spread throughout the hotel and Zeus knew how far out elsewhere and fried all of the other sluks as well as those in the kitchens.

Gunn was kneeling on the floor next to an apparently recovered – or recovering at least – Fred. Holding a bottle of vodka, which was interesting.

Xander looked at Angel, jerked his head towards the main ballroom and said, "Now you _really_ need a contractor." (beat) "But on the upside, now you have a pool."

Lorne looked at the three of them wildly and finally, focused on Angel. "Ok, unless anyone else has something more critical for a topic, just let me be the first to say: _just what the __**hell**_ _was __that_?"

Angel shrugged and said simply, "Cordelia."

"Huh?" Lorne blinked.

"Oh! Like at the porn studio the other night!" Fred said. Everyone except Gunn, Cordelia, and Xander looked at her with their mouths falling open.

"Uh... porn studio?" Angel shook his head, looking like he wanted to bang it against something to clear away unwanted images.

"Brain bleach?" Cordelia said, her mouth curving into a wry looking grin. "Or fetish fuel?"

"Yeah! The other night when we rescued those pornographers. From the Thrax-hell demons."

Angel sat down on the nearest couch, and sighed heavily. "No one told me anything about a porn studio?" he said, weakly.

Lorne exchanged blank looks with him, and shrugged. "Must've been before I got back from Vegas?"

"Uh, it was the night before the big blowup where I decked you," Xander said, helpfully. "Don't think we ever really had a chance."

Gunn helped Fred up onto her feet. "And, guess we all forgot about it after the floor show that day."

"Hey! Not me," Cordelia said, "I _gave_ you the check. That morning."

"You _didn't_ say that 'Blue Screen Productions' was a _porn_ company, Cordelia," Angel said, rolling his eyes.

"What, you thought they fixed computers?" Cordelia said, rolling _her_ eyes back at him.

"Well, yeah – "

"So, this happened before?" Lorne interrupted the pair before they could really get started. There were nods and the Host looked at Cordelia, shaking his head slowly. "Oh, cupcake, not that it's not useful, but," he spread his hands, "The words impressive and disturbing are vying for prominence in my mind here."

"You are not wrong," Xander said. Cordelia swatted him on the arm tiredly.

"Yeah yeah," she said. "Been there, had the argument. Arguments. Got the t-shirt," she shook her head. "We're gonna have an old friend look into it. Friends."

"Speaking of," Angel stood up, wearily, and walked over to them. He looked down slightly at Xander. "You're still not ever going to be one of my favorite people, but... thanks."

"Welcome," Xander nodded. His eyes narrowed, "That mean I'm no longer persons non gratis?"

"Non grata," Angel said. "And... well, since you seem to be married to my seer and best friend, and she'd probably object if I made a snack out of you – "

"Depends on the day," Xander offered.

Angel smirked. "– Yeah. Can't very well kick you out forever." Cordelia beamed and winked at him.

"So... that means my wife's no longer fired?" Xander asked.

Angel sighed and rolled his eyes. "She never was fired."

"Cool."

Angel studied Xander for several minutes, glanced at Cordelia, and sighed. He stuck out his hand. Xander blinked at it.

"Sometimes, you really piss me off," Angel said.

"Mutual," Xander replied, and shrugged, taking the vampire's hand and shaking it.

"Welcome to the family," Angel said. "You already got the shovel speech." Xander grinned at him.

"Uh, by the way," Lorne said, looking over to Gunn and Fred. "Where did you get the idea for the vodka treatment," he said.

Gunn shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable. He looked everywhere but at Angel as he said, "Got desperate. So I bit the bullet and went and asked Wes for input."

Angel's face froze. And he also pointedly didn't look at Gunn.

"Well," Lorne said, also looking uncomfortable. "It did the trick."

"Hey," Gunn said, spreading his hands. "Didn't know Barbie was gonna do her flashlight impression again. Didn't know what else to do."

"It worked, it's done, just... " Angel waved a hand irritably, "Stop talking about it."

"You got it, Boss man." Gunn stuck his hands in his pockets, and took on a mulish look. "But we're gonna have to talk about it sometime." He met Angel's glare with an even gaze.

Cordelia sighed. She glanced at her watch, and shook herself. "Well, on that note... It's just after midnight. If we're going to do this, we should get going." She shook her head, "By way of a shower and change of clothes."

"Oh?" Fred said, "Where y'all off to?"

"Sunnydale," Xander said.

"Ah. Going to tell the home team about the... " Angel waved his hand at the two of them and they nodded. "Think I'd rather fight the slug demons."

"It's not going to be _that_ bad," Cordelia said.

"Oh ye of little imagination," responded Xander and she swatted him on the arm again.

"Hah." Angel shook his head, obviously picturing the various confrontations. "I'm with Harris on that."

Xander shrugged. "Need to spread the joyful news, make peace with Anya – and possibly my gods – and start figuring out what I'm going to do about moving here to L.A."

"You're relocating?" Gunn asked.

"My wife works in the big city," Xander said and Cordelia grinned at him. "I can't ask her to give up her career."

"Are you _sure_ I can't convince you to get a divorce?" Angel asked Cordelia, sounding plaintive.

"Positive. But ask me again in a week," she said, smiling. Xander looked at her, pained.

"So, when will you be back?" Angel asked. Cordelia looked at Xander, who shrugged, and turned back to Angel.

"Few days, maybe?"

"Call and let us know."

"Don't forget your mouse ears, honey." Xander cocked his head slightly and looked over at the other big lug. "Hey, Groo? You're looking for excitement, you might consider relocating to Sunnydale. All the demons you can hack and an apocalypse a year whether you want one or not."

"I," Groo frowned, then shrugged, "Shall consider it."

Xander nodded and he and Cordelia began heading for the hotel door, weapons in hand. Behind them, he heard Angel asking curiously, "So, about this porn studio?" and he snickered.

Cordelia looked askance at him. "So," she said, "Who are you trying to aim my recently ex-boyfriend at? Buffy or your ex fiancé?"

"Why, Mrs. Harris! Would I do such a thing?" She gave him her best skeptical expression and he considered, "Either would do. He'd be better for the Buffster than Spike, and he and Anya would have things in common."

* * *

"Huh." Cordelia walked around, surveying the place critically. "My turn, I guess, to say this is kinda nice."

"Please," Xander said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's a wreck."

"Well, and remember, I'm taking into account the whole bachelor pad meets morning after a frat party thing," Cordelia said, nodding, "But I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume it's not like this all the time?"

"Maid's day off," Xander said. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Naw. I... had a rough couple of weeks after the wedding-that-wasn't and let myself go a bit. Ok, a lot." He looked around, "There was drinking."

"No! Say it's not true," Cordelia said. She bent over to pick up an empty beer bottle. Examining the label, she smirked and said, "Boy, when you dump a girl, your taste goes all to crap, huh?"

"Budweiser, the King of Beers," Xander said. "Hey, it was cheap. So was the flavored vodka."

"What, no Ripple?"

"I was in a mood for dissolution, not skid row." She smirked at him again and he shook his head. He sighed and said, "Probably a good thing S&C sent me to Vegas for that Expo, or no telling where I'd wind up."

"Rehab, I'm thinking," Cordelia said. "I don't get it. You've never been a heavy drinker." Xander raised an eyebrow and looked at her, and she colored. "And moving along past the night we are so _not_ going to mention..."

"Pain, lost love, country music, drink," Xander said. "They seemed to go together."

"Did you do this after I dumped you?"

"I wasn't old enough to buy alcohol then, Cordy."

"Right." Her lips twitched, and after a minute or so, so did his. They both broke out grinning at each other. "Let's find some trash bags and start cleaning up. I am so not sleeping with you in an apartment that looks like the set from Animal House."

"As you wish," he said.

"More than a couple of weeks accumulation here," she said, surveying the project.

"And after I stopped drinking myself to sleep every night," he replied, "There was this hallucinogenic demon who made Buffy think she was nuts and she tried to kill us all, and then I got busy, and I was depressed, and," he shrugged, "I had a hard time motivating."

He surveyed the place himself, critically, for the first time in probably weeks. "And, eww. I really don't live like this normally. Not even when I was a bachelor."

"I didn't figure you did. Your room was never a major disaster area."

"Mom may not have been much on the cooking and mothering stuff, but she had a thing about mess," he said, nodding.

"It is a nice apartment, though," she said, as they headed into the kitchen for cleaning supplies and trash bags. "Especially for Sunnydale. Seriously not what I expected you to have."

"What were you expecting?"

She flushed. "I refuse to answer that on the grounds that you'll think I'm a bitch. And no comments," she held up a hand. His mouth closed with a snap, and he grinned. "Where's Anya living now?"

"Uh... " Xander looked lost, as he reached into the pantry cupboard for trash bags. "She didn't actually live with me. Just slept over all the time," he said. "I think she had an apartment? I know I called her there lots, especially during that Thoth thing while we were shopping for this place."

"When you were split in two Xanders?" Cordelia said, and then her gaze went distant and glazed over slightly.

"Get yer mind out of the gutter, Mrs. Harris," Xander said, smirking. "You're worse than Ahn was."

"I so am not!" Cordelia snapped, her eyes flashing at him before her gaze went distant again. "Uh – "

"Oy."

"Oh, bite me," Cordelia said. Rolling her eyes, she added, "You can't tell me you never fantasized about being the filling in a sandwich with me and my identical cousin, Wendie."

"Well... the thought _may_ have crossed my mind once or twice... "

"You think?" Cordelia found a broom and dustpan, and some spray cleaner.

"I _did_ suggest that we look her up when I was driving you to L.A.," Xander said, "Before we got diverted."

"I'm holding a broom and I _will_ beat you with it," Cordelia said, shaking the dustpan at him.

"I have an abusive spouse, sheesh."

Cordelia grinned at him, and they went back to surveying the damage.

"You know, we _are_ going to be living in the same area of L.A. as she does, now..." he began. Cordelia gave him a warning look and he quit talking and grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"We are _not_ going to have a threesome with my cousin just to fulfill one of your perverted fantasies, Lamer," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. "Not unless we can invite Groo to one and fulfill one of _mine_."

"Fine." Xander flipped his hands up, and said, "You win. No Wendie/Cordy sandwiches." He stuck his lower lip out at her and got a tongue stuck out at him for his trouble.

"Spoilsport," Cordelia said.

"How about Tor and Heidi?" he said, waggling his eyebrows again.

"N- uh... " Cordelia's eyes glazed over briefly, and then she shook her head. "That one I'll have to think about." They exchanged smirks and went back to surveying the damage.

"You know?" Xander said, wonderingly, and reverting back to the earlier topic. "I never really gave much thought to where or how Anya lived after she became human. Or supported herself. And then she started working at the Magic Box, and... "

"Hrmm," Cordelia said. She started sweeping the kitchen floor as Xander began picking up cans and empty pizza boxes and takeout cartons for the hefty bag. "Always a good idea to look into those things. Especially living on the Hellmouth."

"Just... never really seemed important."

"And besides. Copious amounts of sex," she said, smirking.

"Exactly."

* * *

Heading up the sidewalk on Wilkins Boulevard, they were on their way to the Espresso Pump to fortify themselves with morning coffee before heading over to Buffy's house. Cordelia looked around curiously as they walked, hand in hand, up the street from where Xander had parked.

Lots of changes. And then again, not so many. Still the same old Sunnydale.

Xander stopped abruptly, almost yanking her hand out of his. She stopped next to him, looking over curiously, then followed his gaze.

Ah.

"Mr. Harris," Cordelia said. She gave him her best smile, just because. Hey – Xander's dad and all, and he was now an in-law.

"Cordelia," Xander's dad nodded to her, returning the smile. "How are you?"

"Hey, Dad."

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Anthony Harris gave his son a look of barely disguised skepticism.

"Off a few days," Xander said diffidently, shrugging. "Had some stuff to work out and take care of."

Xander's dad snorted, and turned his attention to Cordelia. The gaze he turned on her was a lot friendlier than the one he favored his son with.

"Miss Chase. Didn't expect to see you in town."

Cordelia's lips twitched, and then she grinned at him. What the hell. She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers at him.

"Mrs. Harris now, actually."

It was so _totally_ worth it to see Xander's startled look at her and Xander's dad's mouth drop open. Anthony Harris looked at her, hard, then at Xander, and then finally, back to her. His mouth closed and he shook his head.

"I always thought you had sense," Tony said. "How'd you end up married to him?" He jerked his thumb toward his son.

"Gee, thanks, Dad." Xander snorted.

"Don't start – " Anthony Harris jabbed a finger at Xander. "You know what I mean. After that thing in high school?"

"We got drunk in Vegas and woke up married," Cordelia said, smiling wickedly.

Xander's dad stared at her, and then, slowly, the corner of his mouth curled up into a smile. She suddenly saw where Xander got that lopsided grin from. "That'll do it," he said.

"It did. I decided to keep him after we sobered up, against my better judgment." Xander snorted, and glared at her sidelong. Cordelia swatted him on the arm, lightly.

Tony sighed, then grinned at her. "I'd advise against it, but I remember what you were like as a little girl. You'll do what you want, regardless."

He looked at Xander. "I always liked her," his dad said, jerking his thumb at Cordelia. "Lots better than the other one." He looked at Cordelia, "Your dad, now, was a putz. But you I always liked."

"One thing we can agree on at least," Xander said, nodding. "I always liked Cordy too. Even when I hated her."

"You lucked out lots better than you ever deserved, Kid," Tony Harris said. "Don't screw it up."

"Uh... " Xander shut his mouth and just shrugged.

"Cordelia," Tony Harris nodded to her, and pushed past Xander to continue down the sidewalk. He stopped and turned back, jabbing his finger at Xander again. "And _don't_ think this lets you out of paying us back for that abortion of a wedding with circus girl, either."

"No, sir," Xander said. "Wouldn't dream of it." He paused for a beat, then added, "Will a cashier's check do? I can drop it by the house tomorrow after I've had a chance to hit the bank."

Anthony Harris' eyes narrowed, and then he nodded. "And bring her," he said, gruffly, pointing at Cordelia. "Your mother will want to see this."

He nodded to Cordelia again, and headed off down the street on whatever errands he'd been about before bumping into them.

Cordelia smiled over at Xander, taking his hand in hers again. "You really did luck out better than you ever deserved, Kid."

"And don't I know it, kiddo," Xander smiled and leaned over to steal a kiss. He laughed, shaking his head, and she looked at him quizzically. He said, "After the second grade he'd ask me, Jesse, and Willow how come Cordelia didn't come over to play anymore. And bitch at me for driving you off. And then when you and I were dating, he'd tell me you were too good for me."

She thought about it, then shrugged. "Neither of our families are any great prizes, Xander. It's a wonder they didn't screw us up any worse than they did."

"Hey, don't knock it," Xander said. He looked down the sidewalk in the direction his father had taken. "That's the most approval of me he's shown in years."

Cordelia shook her head, then frowned, "Circus girl?"

"Anya," Xander said. He shrugged. "Somehow he and mom got the idea that Anya and her demon friends were all circus people."

"Ah." She thought about that, then grinned. "As good an explanation as any, I guess."

"Yeah," he grinned back. "Hey! Speaking of family, as long as we're here. If we have time in the next few days, you want to take a quick drive out past Ojai and visit Uncle Rory?" His grin got a bit broader, "He'll absolutely _freak_ when he sees you, and us with rings."

She nodded, her own grin getting bigger. "I always loved Rory. Crusty old bastard. He still have the taxidermy shop?"

"Naw. He's retired now," Xander said. "But he's gotten crustier."

"Mother almost had a cow when we were seven and I came home from going out there to play with you guys and announced I wanted to be a taxidermist when I grew up."

"A very genteel cow, I'm sure," Xander said, laughing.

"Oh, very refeened," she agreed. "I strongly suspect that led to her deciding to strongly encourage me to find friends in my own social class."

"Darn her."

"Darn her all to heck," Cordelia said. "C'mon. Let's go get coffee and then brace the rest of the extended family in their lairs."

* * *

A pleasant featured girl with long, dirty blonde hair and big blue eyes opened Buffy's door a few minutes after Xander's third push on the doorbell. Cordelia kind of vaguely remembered her from Buffy and Joyce's memorials. She'd been kind of distracted then...

"Hold your horses, I'm coming," she called, yanking the door open. "Oh. Xander! Hey!"

No. Not _pleasant_, Cordelia decided. Beautiful. But the kind of beauty that took a minute to hit with the full impact. Not model or actress or shiny, cultivated L.A. Beauty. Girl next door beauty, maybe, crossed with a healthy dollop of New Age Renn Faire.

She took in Cordelia standing next to Xander in the doorway, and her eyes widened. "Well, hi. I'm Tara."

Cordelia nodded, smiling back. "Hi. Cordelia Chase. Err, Cordelia Chase-Harris now." Cordelia's head tilted, her gaze curious, "We kinda met before. Joyce's funeral."

The girl's eyes widened even more, and she put her hand to her mouth, looking from Cordelia to Xander standing there shuffling his feet, and back again. "Oh, my." She shook her head, and added, "Well, come in."

Once they were in, she thumped Xander solidly on the shoulder, saying, "And you didn't call us? Jeeze." She grinned at Cordelia, and added, "Oh my. Buffy will have a cow."

"Ow. Why does every woman I know hit me?" Xander said.

"Because you deserve it," Tara said. "Jerk. Getting married and not telling us."

"In the lamoid's defense," Cordelia said, "We were married before we had a chance to let anyone in on it. Matter of fact, it wasn't until we woke up the next day that _we_ figured it out."

"Oh, one of those, huh?" Tara's eyes sparkled, and she giggled.

Xander grinned back and asked, "So, is the Buffster in?"

"In the kitchen," Tara said. "We were just about to have breakfast."

Xander held up his ring finger and wiggled it, laying a finger across his lips and going shhhh! Tara grinned wickedly and mimed zipping her lips.

Tara took Xander by the arm and started marching him through the house towards the kitchen. Cordelia trailed after the two of them, looking around and missing Joyce with a sudden pang. She hadn't spent much time in this house when she and Xander had been together, but what little she had spent here was nice. Well, except for the demon parts.

"Look who I got?" Tara let go of Xander's arm and shoved him into the kitchen ahead of her. Buffy looked up from the paper and her eyes widened slightly, then she grinned.

"Hey, stranger, you're back."

"You mean you noticed I was gone?" Xander grinned lopsidedly back at her.

"Of course. The toilet stopped up and there you weren't," Buffy snickered at Xander's face and stuck her tongue out at him. "Of _course_ we did. Idiot."

She looked past Xander and her eyes widened even further when she saw Cordelia leaning in the kitchen doorway. She was out of her chair and across the kitchen before Cordy could blink.

"Cordelia!" Out in the yard, startled birds took flight and windows shattered downtown.

Cordelia blinked, startled. She hadn't quite expected so much welcome and enthusiasm in her first greeting here.

"You brought pressies," Buffy half turned to smile at Xander. "You're the bestest friend ever." She turned back to Cordelia, "God, it's good to see you," she said.

"It is?" Cordelia blinked again. "I mean, it's good to see you, too, Buffy."

"Of course it is," Buffy said.

"Uh... " A slow smile spread across Cordelia's face. "You weren't quite as enthusiastic the last few times you saw me in L.A."

"That's because every time I was in L.A. there was Angel and some sort of badness." Buffy grinned, pulling Cordelia by the arm toward the table. "But you don't know how good it is to see a normal person to talk to." Her smile froze and she looked at Xander and Tara. "Uh," she said, "Another normal person. I mean... "

"We get it, Buffy," Tara smiled.

Xander nodded and said, "Yup. As in, not a vampire, witch, Key, or glorified bricklayer."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him, then turned back to Cordelia. "It's just... it's been a hell of a year. I could have used a dose of your brutal honesty and pointed commentary a few times."

"Hey, I'm always on call, you know." Cordelia gave the diminutive blonde a genuine smile, possibly the first one in years.

"C'mon. Sit. Have breakfast. Gossip." Buffy resumed pulling her to the table. "What are you doing with carpenter boy here?"

"She followed me home, Buffy. Can I keep her?"

"And actually, that's not far from the truth," Cordelia said. "I kinda did."

"Huh." Buffy's finger rubbed across the base of Cordelia's fingers on the hand she was pulling her by, and she froze suddenly. She yanked Cordelia's hand up to eye level and stared. Then reached over and grabbed Xander's left hand and yanked it up to eye level.

And stared.

Buffy's mouth worked soundlessly for several minutes, her eyes getting bigger and bigger. Cordelia exchanged alarmed looks with Xander, who gave a one shouldered shrug.

There was a sudden ear splitting squeal, and Buffy exclaimed, "_You got MARRIED_!"

She turned to Xander, her eyes big and accusing, and said, "_You married CORDELIA?_"

"Uh... yeah?" Xander said, his own eyes getting a bit wide.

Buffy glared at both of them, and then dropped Xander's hand like it was on fire – and glomped onto Cordelia with a near rib breaking hug.

"God, I'm so happy for you!" Cordelia gave Xander and Tara a startled look over Buffy's shoulder. Tara just grinned at her.

"Umm. Not quite the reaction I'd expected," Xander said.

Buffy released Cordelia and spun on him, slugging him in the arm. "Why didn't you _call_ us? Call and _tell_ us, you jerk?"

"Ow."

Buffy glared at him.

Cordelia said, "Not really the reaction I'd anticipated, either."

Buffy whirled back to her and picked Cordelia up by the upper arms and planted her in a chair, dropping into a seat across from her. "Ok. Spill. There's gossip here and I want it and I'm gonna get it." She aimed a finger at Xander without looking at him as he started to edge away. "You. Sit. You're talking too."

Xander sat so fast Cordelia thought someone yanked all the bones out of him.

Cordelia grinned, shaking her head. "Ok. So. Dweeb boy ran over me – literally – with his big feet at the Palazzo Hotel, knocked me down, picked me up, kissed me brainless – else I wouldn't be here, obviously – and got me drunk and married me."

"In the Elvis Presley Chapel of Love and Pancake Breakfast. _After_ she had her wicked way with me all over the Palazzo, most of the strip, and the Fitzgerald," Xander added. Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him.

"Yeah, sad to say. And I'd _so_ be trying to forget that, but the parts I do remember were, uh, memorable." Tara giggled and Cordelia shot her a wide smile. "And then we woke up the next morning and had an _enormous_ fight, and ended up, uh... "

"Making wild hot demon monkey love all day?" Xander waggled his eyebrows at her.

Cordelia flushed bright red, and then nodded. "Pretty much."

"So, not so much chance to make with the calling to invite people to the wedding thingy, I'm guessing," Buffy said, laughing.

"Not so much, no," Xander said, shrugging.

"So, when did this happen," Tara asked, over her shoulder. She'd moved to the stove and started making pancakes during the explanations.

"Um. Monday night after the Expo? And then Tuesday?"

"And you're just _now_ coming to tell us?" Buffy's eyes narrowed.

"Hey," Xander spread his hands. "Cordelia Chase. Hot monkey sex. Give a guy at least a few days for a honeymoon, Buff."

Cordelia rolled her eyes, then shot him a stifling look. Which rolled right off, naturally. "Pay no attention to Dill-weed there. We kinda wasted a day looking into annulments before Lamoid here convinced me to give this staying married thing a try, and then we had to come back via L.A. to sort out things with Angel and my co-workers first. Plus other stuff coming up."

Buffy nodded, then glared at Xander. "Cell phone? Nifty gadget, I'm sure you've heard of them."

"Uh. Sorry?" The glare intensified, and Xander spread his hands apologetically. "And I _am_ sorry, but I was kind of... terrified at the reaction here so I was putting it off." He aimed his best puppy dog eyes at Buffy and pitched his voice lower, and said, "Forgive me?" Cordelia had to swallow a laugh.

"Don't give me the puppy eyes. It won't work."

"Please?"

"Crap." Buffy rolled her eyes, then melted like chocolate on an August day. "Ok," she growled. "But only because I don't want to make Cordy a widow so soon."

"Oh, please," Cordelia waved a hand. "Have at."

"Hey!" Xander yelped.

"Girl time," Buffy said, turning back to Cordelia. "I realize this isn't the time for it, so we're gonna have to schedule a girl's night so you can give me and Tara all the juicy details. Pajamas and movies. And Dawn. Oh my God – Dawn will _freak_."

"Ok ok!" Cordelia said, laughing. "First available opportunity."

"Huh. So, where's Willow?" Xander asked. Buffy's face froze and Cordelia saw Tara's back stiffen momentarily. Uh oh.

"Uh." Buffy shook her head, then sighed. "Willow kind of had a relapse thingy while you were gone. We found out she was back to going with Amy to visit that sorcerer Rack to fill up on black magic-y vibes. Again."

"Ah." Xander's eyes closed for a long moment, then he opened them and nodded.

"Yeah. Lots happened in the what, three weeks you've been gone?" Buffy ran a hand through her hair, looking frustrated.

"Three weeks?" Cordelia asked.

"Ah. Yeah. Almost. Company stuff – Had to go to Bakersfield on the 3rd to look in on a project there, then head to Mescalero in Arizona for a few days for a seminar. And then the convention and expo on the 19th?" He shrugged, spread his hands. "Been busy recently."

"Ah." Cordelia nodded. "Wait," she said, frowning. "Amy the rat?"

"Amy the no longer rat," Tara provided. "She's been on kind of a magic and self-destruction binge since she got de-ratted by Will, and discovered her Dad moved away and she lost three years or more as a rat."

"And," Buffy sighed heavily, "Given the car wreck and Dawn getting her arm broken because Willow was dragging her to Rack's with her and Amy, I decided I really didn't need her around Dawn any more when she started up again, and asked her to move out." She shrugged, "And asked Tara if she wanted to move back in from her dorm."

"Uh huh," Tara said. She started setting plates in front of them, and then coffee cups and glasses of orange juice. "And I said, sure, Ok."

"Because Tara," Buffy gestured, "So much better an influence on Dawn.'

"Huh. Don't doubt it," Cordelia said. Xander shot her a look and she shrugged, making a 'what can I say?' gesture. "I've heard of this Rack guy in the L.A. demon underworld. Isn't he – "

"A sorcerer who feeds practitioners black magic 'highs' and increases their power. In exchange for money and 'favors'." Tara said, setting the coffee carafe down on the table a bit too hard.

"Hrmm. What I heard was that he feeds on people's power, and gives them an illusionary power boost in return," Cordelia said. "But I'm not a practitioner, so... "

"Would make a certain amount of sense," Tara said, looking at her thoughtfully. "B- because, Willow never really seemed much more powerful when she got done. J-just euphoric."

"So, you and Will are still not with the togetherness?" Xander asked.

"No... " Tara frowned. "We've been talking. At school. We even had a date the other night."

"Sure that's a good plan?" Xander asked, looking serious. "I mean, I love Will, and I love you and Will with the togetherness, but... with the mind wiping and mind control thing?"

Cordelia gave Buffy an alarmed look, and got a grim one in exchange.

"Well," Tara said, picking at her plate. "I just m-miss Willow so much, you know?"

"Um. Not my place, maybe, but... abusive relationships really kinda don't get better on their own," Cordelia ventured.

Tara sighed, heavily, and started to eat, grimly shoveling her food down. "Yeah, I know," she said between bites. "I don't know what to do."

"I'd suggest relationship counseling," Buffy said with a wry twist of the mouth, "But where are you gonna find a therapist who won't make with the freaking at the idea of magical mind screwing?"

"Heh." Xander shook his head. He took a sip of his coffee.

"Sorry to bring all this up," Cordelia said.

"Oh, i-it's ok," Tara said. "J-just not easy, y'know?" Cordelia gave her a sympathetic look.

"And on a topic that's elsewhere... " Xander started, and the others gave him attentive – and in Tara's case, grateful – looks. "Had kind of a mystical thing of our own we wanted your input on."

"M-mine?" Tara said. She got nods from Xander and Cordelia, so she swallowed, shrugged, and said, "Sure."

Xander looked at Cordelia and made an 'after you' gesture, and Cordelia shrugged. "I had kind of a thing. With the visions. It, uh, turned out they were killing me slowly," Buffy sucked in a sharp breath and Cordelia gave her a weak smile, "And then not so slowly. And then an agent of the Powers took me to the astral realm and on a mystical journey thing and, uh, kinda infused me with demon essence so I could survive them without dying."

Buffy's expression got more and more alarmed as Cordelia went on, and she exchanged looks with Xander. "Um. Cordy? You know, aspects of a demon aren't maybe such a good thing."

"Uh, yeah, I remember," Cordelia said, wryly. "And Xander's been kinda pounding on the point. But... what was I going to do? I was about yea close to dying when the offer was made." She held up her hand with the thumb and fore-finger about a sixteenth of an inch apart.

"Oh, Cordy." Buffy shook her head.

"I called Giles," Xander said. "And I thought that maybe you could look into it with him," he said to Tara.

"Not Willow?" Buffy held up a hand, looking pained. "And so never mind. Because Willow and Cordy and you? Not so mixy a thing. At the best of times."

"Right. My thought," Xander said, nodding.

"Ok." Tara pushed her empty plate away from her and poured herself coffee refill. "I c-can, maybe look at your aura, Cordelia, and see what I can see. For s-starters."

"Cordy." When Tara looked at her inquiringly, she said, "It's Cordy. My _friends_ call me Cordy, not Cordelia."

Tara smiled, a genuine one. "O-okay." She frowned slightly, "This won't take very long. I just need to focus for a minute."

Cordelia shrugged, trying to relax as Tara's eyes went slightly unfocused, and she stared at her for a minute. Then they came back into focus and she frowned slightly.

"Hrmm."

"Hrrmm?" Xander gave her a curious, and nervous look.

"Interesting. And very odd," Tara said. Cordelia raised an eyebrow and gave her an inquiring look.

"Ok," Tara said after a minute. "You don't seem to have an evil aura. Not that I can see. But there's a _lot_ of darkness mixed up in there." She frowned again, and said, slowly, "It's almost like there's something under the surface of your own aura... "

"Meaning... ?" Cordelia was starting to look a bit alarmed, now.

"Not sure. I'm going to have to look again, deeper," Tara said. "Your aura is very bright and pretty, but there's shadows underneath it." She looked over at Xander, and added, "Your aura is very weird, also."

"And I say, huh?"

"Eloquent, Doof. Very eloquent."

"I could see yours out of the corner of my eye while I was examining Cordy's," Tara said. "Did you know your aura was fractured?"

"Uh, no... You mean like when I was split into two people?" Xander said. Cordelia gave him a sharp look, and he mouthed 'later' at her.

"N-nooo," Tara shook her head. "More like, remember when Faith switched bodies with Buffy and her aura was all messed up? Kinda like that, only not as bad. It's like you have more than one aura, but two of them are very faint and almost shadowy."

"Huh." Xander shrugged, looking lost. Cordelia frowned thoughtfully.

"Ok. Gonna try again now, for a deeper look," Tara said. Her eyes went slightly unfocused again as she looked at Cordelia. After a moment, they widened slightly.

Then, there was a sharp crack! sound and a bright flash of light and both women were hurled backward from the table and across the kitchen.

* * *

.


	17. Ain't No Doubt About It -

**Chapter Fifteen: ****Ain't No Doubt About It (We Were Doubly Blessed)**

* * *

"_Not only don't I know what tomorrow will bring, I'm still not entirely certain what yesterday brought." _– Ashleigh Brilliant

* * *

"Holy crap!" Buffy said, already out of her seat and kneeling down next to the dazed looking Tara sprawled in her overturned chair, with a puddle of coffee and remnants of a shattered mug scattered next to her.

"I was gonna go with 'Sweet Jumping Mother of Zeus', but that works too," Xander said. He knelt down by an equally dazed looking and wide eyed Cordelia. "Are you ok?"

"Fuck no!" Cordelia said, glaring up at him. "The hell _was_ that?"

"Ow," Tara said, putting a hand to her head. Buffy checked her over quickly and almost professionally – by now a veteran at assessing injuries, sadly – and helped her carefully to her feet. She leaned Tara against the counter and bent to right the witch's chair so she could sit her down in it.

Xander did the same with Cordelia, supporting her with one arm as he reached out a foot to hook a toe under the chair back and kip it up to where he could catch it with his free hand and right it. He eased her down gently, kneeling next to her after she was seated. She smiled at him weakly, but batted at his hand.

"I'm ok, Doof. Just... shook up a bit."

"Wow. I'll say," Tara said, shaking her head, still slightly wide eyed.

Buffy looked over at Cordelia and said, "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you really need to get that looked at."

"Gee, thanks," Cordelia said, sourly. "Ya think?"

Buffy grinned at her, humorlessly. "I'm thinking, yeah." She shook her head, "But if you can still snark, you can't be hurt _too_ bad."

"OK," Tara stood, with Buffy hovering by her ready to catch if needed, and looked seriously at Cordelia. "I'll clean up this mess, and then I'm thinking you need to tell me everything. From the beginning and in detail."

"Oh no," Buffy said. "_I'll_ clean up the coffee and plates and broken cup. Me and Xander." She picked up the chair and set it back at the table, "You two sit and talk. And recover."

Xander scooted the chair under and held it as Cordelia sat. She waved him off, finally. "Look, Xander, I'm really much with the appreciation, but don't hover. Go hoover instead."

He gave her a lopsided grin, along with a worried expression. "Right, Chief. I'll get the shop vac."

.

Buffy went to the garage with him to grab the hand vac along with helping him with the wet & dry vac attachments.

"I know I haven't had much of a real chance to see you together since you just got here," Buffy said, handing him the attachments and reaching for rags and a mop, "And I'm still kinda in shock... " she grinned. "But you two really look happy together. So far."

He grinned at her, "You mean, explosive Tara flinging aside?" She nodded, and he said, "Y'know? Really kind of am. I mean – we still argue like cats and dogs, but we just fit together, you know? And even when we argue, it's _play_ – like it used to be when we were kids, before everything got bad."

Buffy nodded, then shrugged. "Not really, because, hey – not here when you guys were kids, obviously. But I remember how you were in high school when things were good between you."

"Yeah."

"I'm happy for you, really. Both of you. And I'm not just saying that because this means that Anya's not my new sibling-in-law, because, hey, I like Anya, all in all. Mostly."

"Breathe Buffy. Deep breath," Xander said, smiling.

"Right. Verging on Willow babble there," she grinned up at him. "What I'm trying to say here is: you're my bestest male friend, even if I do treat you like one of the girls. And you're a really great guy and you and Cordelia deserve each other."

Her eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Crap. I didn't mean that... "

Xander grinned and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead."S'ok. I know what you meant, even if I am kinda not liking the way you said that."

"Jerk." Buffy took down her hand. "I mean... it's just that when you came in and I looked up and saw you and Cordy standing in the door together, you looked so _right_ there."

"Feels right," Xander said, simply.

"You and Anya?" Buffy asked, her eyes searching his.

"Done deal, I'm thinking," Xander said, shrugging. "Ship torpedoed at the docks. And... " he spread his hands, looking back at her, "No she doesn't know and I have no idea how to go about dealing with that."

"Hoo boy," Buffy said, huffing out a breath and blowing her bangs away from her eyes.

"Double helping of hoo boy," Xander said, nodding, "With a cherry on top. And I'm not looking forward to telling Willow, either."

"Good luck," Buffy said, patting his arm. "You'll need it."

"And on _that_ cheery note, let's go make with the coffee cleanup."

.

Post cleanup, Buffy and Xander listened as Cordelia filled Tara and her in on the long, sad, odd saga of her visions and everything that went with them. With Xander adding the occasional comment and/or clarification, and Tara asking pertinent questions as needed, a reasonably full picture finally emerged.

"Hmm." Tara leaned back, finally, looking thoughtful.

"And hmm," Buffy echoed. She had her chin propped in one hand, and was studying Cordelia thoughtfully. "Not even gonna pretend to be an expert here. And me and the research, not such a good combo."

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak, and Buffy held up a hand, her eyes going hard. "But!" Cordelia subsided, and Buffy's eyes softened, and she said, "But we really shouldn't be only hearing all of this now at this stage.."

"I know," Cordelia said, sighing.

"Seriously, Cordy. We went through a war zone together for three years. We fought the Mayor and the Master and even Angel together. I don't care if you're living in East Bumfuckia, we're your friends, dammit."

"Even if you don't like me all that much?" Cordelia's tone and smile was wry.

"Liking schmiking. What's _like_ got to do with it?" Buffy shook her head, smiling. "I don't like _Xander_ half the time," she said, ignoring his outraged look, "but he's _family_. You're family."

"I– " Cordelia stopped, and covered her mouth with a hand. Her eyes flooded and she swallowed. Hard. Xander put his arm around her shoulders. "I... I don't know what to say to that."

"Nothing. Just deal with it." Buffy grinned. "So I figure bricklayer here already gave you the lecture series?"

"Oh, yeah," Cordelia said, wiping her eyes. "In spades and triplicate." She looked at Xander, her eyes big, "It's kinda why I'm still married to him."

"'K," Buffy said. "So I'll just go straight to the slap on the wrist. Bad Cordy." She sighed, "All done now. And now we figure out what to do here."

They all looked at Tara, who frowned.

"N-not sure," she said. "But when that flash happened and threw us apart? I saw a kind of a figure for a moment."

"Oh?" Cordelia frowned also. "What kind?"

"Big. Dark. Demony. And kind of like, all steely? And a flash of a woman that was all glowing."

"Hrmm. Sounds like Skip," Cordelia said, scowling more deeply. "The Power's guide who convinced me to take on the demon aspect, demon DNA, or whatever it is. Half-demon thing."

"Hrmm." Tara shook her head. "I'm not sure you can just _make_ someone part demon," she said. "Infuse them with demon essence? Maybe."

"Wait," Cordelia said. "Xander said Ethan Rayne turned Giles into a Fyarl?"

"T-t- a straight transformation," Tara said, "Not a partial transform."

"Amy to rat? Or Anya was a human turned to a vengeance demon," Xander said, objecting.

"T-transformation again," Tara said, shaking her head. "And Anya: human to demon, a straight transformation. T- this? I don't know how you would partially infuse someone's DNA with demon genes."

"Do demons even have genes?" Buffy frowned, biting her lower lip.

Cordelia shrugged. "They'd have to, wouldn't they? Doyle was half demon on his dad's side, and half human, so... "

"Well, yeah?" Tara frowned too. "T-they'd kinda have to, if they can breed with h-humans or other things, right?"

"Ok, wait a minute," Buffy said, holding a hand up. "How do we know there's a DNA infusion? Um, Cordy?" She looked at Cordelia, "Did you get a DNA, like, analysis thingy done when this Skip character told you he'd made you part demon?"

"Uh... " Cordelia's mouth fell open, and she froze slightly. She shook her head. "Didn't even think about it? It didn't occur to any of us. _Why_ didn't it occur to any of us to do that?"

"Well, science and demons, not so mix-y. And, all fairness," Xander said, "Everyone was kind of distracted there at the time. Wesley with some prophecy, Angel with his son... "

Buffy froze at that, her mouth slightly open. She shook her head, putting her hand up again. Cordelia looked at him, her mind blanking at the sight of Xander defending Angel. Wasn't computing.

"Angel had a son? Ok, you know, I'm not _even_ going to ask," Buffy said.

"Okay, wait," Cordelia said, holding a hand up, "I _know_ I told Willow about that in an email. And by phone when we were discussing computer support stuff."

Buffy's lips compressed into a thin line, and her eyes hardened again slightly. She shook her head. "Cordelia. These powers you're describing don't sound like _any_ demon we've ever run into. Or that _I've_ ever heard of or read about," Buffy said. "And we've gotten a chance to see and research a _lot_ of demons here in Hellmouth Central."

"M-me either," Tara said, looking thoughtful. "I know I ha-haven't seen as many demons as you guys, but... " she trailed off, shrugging.

"We need Giles, dammit," Buffy said, looking morose.

"He's on his way," Xander said. Buffy looked up, brightening, as did Tara. "Said it would take him some days to close up things over there and break loose, and to gather up the books he'd need, but... " he spread his hands, "He'll be here."

"Oh, good," Buffy breathed. "And I think I'm gonna stake Angel. Inconsiderate jerk."

"No need," Cordelia said, and Buffy looked at her sharply. "Bogie here already belted him one on the jaw."

"Really?" Buffy looked at Xander in disbelief, her mouth falling open.

"Really. Knocked him right on his ass." Cordelia snickered.

Xander snickered as well, his eyes dancing. "And into and through a _seriously_ expensive looking antique."

"Good. The nerve of him letting all this happen and not telling us," Buffy said.

"He had it coming," Xander said, a slow grin curving the left side of his mouth up. "But," he shook his head, "I'm not quite as... infuriated at him as I was. He really has had a lot hitting him." Xander froze, suddenly, his eyes going distant.

"What?" Tara said, watching Xander carefully.

"Almost... " Xander held up a hand. "I'm having a thought. Shh – don't scare it."

"Yeah. It's probably frightened and lonely in there," Cordelia said, getting a glare from Xander. She smirked at him, making a 'two points' gesture with her fingers.

Everyone was watching him now, including Buffy. Cordelia was reminded suddenly of the times when they'd been deep in the crap, like with the Judge, and Xander would suddenly pull out an insight that had escaped all of them, even Giles.

"Ok. Angel works for the Powers, right?" Xander said. Cordelia nodded. "And he's like, important, right? Gonna play some big part at the end of all yata yata. And you're his, what, link to these Powers?" Cordelia nodded again.

Xander was quiet for some time again, then. "Ok, so you want to break or divert that link, what do you do?"

Buffy shrugged. "Kill Cordelia." Cordelia's head whipped around and she glared at Buffy, who shrugged again, looking unapologetic. "No offense. But, tactically? Yeah."

"Naw." Xander shook his head. He said, "Too straightforward, Buff. 'Cause you attack Cordelia directly, and Angel pulls out the stops to do something, anything, about it, even if it's wrong. Think again."

"D-distract Angel?" Tara was watching him also, her eyes bright.

"Bingo," Xander grinned at her, and tapped the tip of his nose with a forefinger. "And distract Wesley. So you can move on something else while they're looking at the hand you're waving around."

"So, wait. Angel's son, Darla, everything for several months now, was just a distraction?" Cordelia frowned.

"Wait, Darla?" Buffy looked thoroughly confused now. "Hold. Ok, again, not now. But once we're finished with this topic... "

"We so _really_ need to have a talk," Cordelia said, smiling at her.

"Right." Buffy smiled back.

Xander shrugged again, spread his hands. "First time accident, second time a coincidence, and the third time enemy action. Me, I'm suspicious of accidents, and I don't believe in coincidences. Coincidences are like prophecies. They make my back teeth itch."

"For someone who hauled off and decked him," Cordelia said, looking suspiciously at him, "And then gave Angel what for and lit him up one side and down the other, you're suddenly bending backwards to give him an out."

"Because he's not here to hear it," Xander said, smirking. "And naw. No out. He needed that what for. He should have pulled his head out and looked around him and noticed what was up with you. I'm not forgiving him for that."

Cordelia and Xander locked eyes in a gaze so intense and so suddenly private that Buffy and Tara looked away. Cordelia smiled, finally, slowly.

"And it's _not_ an out, really," Xander said, breaking the moment. "Dickhead is two hundred and fifty years old. He's been around the block enough times to have some idea of how stuff works."

Xander and Buffy and Tara fell into discussion, arguing animatedly with gestures. And quips. Just like old times. Cordelia watched, studying the byplay with a growing sense of unreality. And loss.

"So... " Cordelia began, carefully, looking at Buffy. "This doesn't make a difference? Me being part demon now?"

"Huh?" Buffy looked at her incredulously. "Uh." She began ticking off on her fingers, "Oz. Werewolf. Anya. Former and recovering vengeance demon. Dawn. Mystical blob of energy turned annoying human. Xander. Demon magnet and possessed so often he needs a vacancy sign on his forehead."

"Hey!"

"Spike. Chipped vampire," Buffy continued, ignoring Xander. "Angel. Souled vampire. Amy. Witch turned rat turned witch. Tara. Witch. Willow. Slightly nutso witch. Need I go on? You fit right in around here."

Tara winced at the 'slightly nutso witch' comment, but nodded vigorously in agreement with Buffy.

"You're going to make me cry," Cordelia said, looking helplessly at Buffy. "And I don't want to. When did you get so... " she made a vague gesture.

"Being dead kinda alters your perspective a bit. Losing my mom," Buffy shrugged, throwing up her hands. "I'm kind of figuring out that I don't have so many old friends that I need to throw any away. And I don't want to lose any more." She sighed, "If I could figure out a way to help Will, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Xandet nodded, shrugging and looking miserable.

"Yeah," Cordelia said, nodding. "So, the being dead thing. Xander said... "

"I'm not making so well with the coping," Buffy said, a bit grimly. "But I'm getting better."

"If there's anything... " Cordelia started.

"Heck, just seeing you here with Xander, _married_, helps enormously," Buffy said, grinning, "It makes me think there's hope for at least _some_ of us to get out of this with something other than scars and PTSD."

"Miracles happen, huh?" Xander said.

"You bet."

* * *

"Ok, so who's cockamamie idea was it to rebuild Sunnydale High?" Cordelia said, after a lengthy bout of swearing and incredulous head shaking. "And right on the same exact freaking _spot_?"

They'd relocated to the dining room after the demon analysis and strategery session, Cordelia and Xander sipping at a pair of cold Tecates, and Buffy (because beer bad, cave Buffy worse, but you two go ahead) and Tara drinking ice tea.

"City and County of Sunnydale," Xander said, ticking off on his fingers. "City Council. County Commissioner. School Board. City Planning board... "

"Yeah." Buffy said, throwing her hands up, "And so with you on the insanity. But they've been shunting SHS students to Grant, Fondren, and Carpinteria High since Mayor McSnakey went blooey."

"And apparently the School Board's gotten tired of overcrowding them. Plus, new state laws mandating class sizes, yata yata," Xander added.

"And just what moron is doing the rebuilding?" Cordelia shook her head. Way too many nightmares associated with that school to not spaz out over the idea of it coming back – and whole new generations of teens being subjected to the Hellmouth beast.

With no resident Slayer in their classes... brrr.

Buffy and Tara looked at Xander, and he raised his hand sheepishly. "Uh, that would be me."

"You're kidding." Cordelia stared at him in disbelief.

"Nope, 'fraid not. S&C got the contract for it," he said. "I was in the planning and about to begin supervising on it right before the Expo and all this came up. Why I had to visit the Big Boss to ask for time out and get my assistant supervisor to take over while I took time off."

Cordelia huffed, folding her arms across her chest. Buffy leaned forward, frowning. "Wait," she said, "You're taking more time off after three plus weeks? And the wedding? How're you managing this and keeping employed?"

"Hey – past three weeks have all been on company time. Paid, even. Heck, the Expo was double time since it was on a weekend," he said, grinning, "And I wasn't actually due back on site until today."

"I so need a new job," Buffy said, flopping back in her chair and blowing hair from her eyes. "And more time off?"

"Well, not counting the three days for the wedding-that-didn't, and the honeymoon vacation time I canceled," Xander spread his hands, "I haven't taken much time off that wasn't for injury since I started almost two and a half years ago."

"Two and a half years?" Tara asked, looking confused.

"Yeah, was part time at S&C when they were excavating the Sunnydale Mission at the UCS campus. In addition to my funny hat job."

"And Dorkus worked for them in the summers going back to Junior High," Cordelia said. "And part time on weekends and after school all through high school."

"Wait, he did?" Buffy blinked at her. "Uh... where was I during all that?"

Cordelia just shrugged, not really having an answer that wasn't unflattering...

"So... " Buffy seemed to be having a hard time wrapping her head around this, Cordelia thought. And no wonder, if she was working for barely above minimum wage at Burger Hell.

"So, between comp time, unspent vacation, and sick time owed, I figure I have... oh, at least six-seven more weeks before I'm in danger of unemployment or missing a paycheck," Xander smirked.

"Definitely. New job. So very needed," Buffy grumped. Tara grinned at her sympathetically and patted her on the shoulder.

"Speaking of," Xander frowned, "When do you need to be at the Palace of Doublemeat?"

"Ack!" Cordelia sat up abruptly. "Doublemeat Palace? Geeze, if you have to work fast food, why not Fatburger or In-N-Out?"

"Tried those," Buffy said, looking pained. "They were full up at the time. Good thing the judge nailed Dad finally on the back child support, or we'd be in seriously bad shape."

"Jeeze," Cordelia shook her head. "Deadbeat dad is a felony in California, I think, and yours is still walking around. And _mine_ went to the Federal Club Med just for tax problems with almost no trial."

"The F-feds really hate it when they don't get their cut," Tara said, quirking a grin.

"Anyway," Buffy said. "Day off today, thank God."

"May have an idea on the job thing," Xander said. "Maybe."

The front door slammed and there was the sound of muffled cursing in a British accent from the front of the house. A girl's voice and laughter drifted up to them, "And no smoking in the house."

"Piss off, Nibblet. I'm burning, not smoking."

Buffy's face froze. So did Xander's. Tara eyed Xander carefully, a worried line creasing her forehead.

_'Uh oh,' _went Still Quiet Voice, _'Gunpowder, meet match.' _Cordelia could only nod silently on the inside.

"Where there's fire... "

Spike blew into the dining room archway and leaned against the entrance, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips; all peroxided slicked back hair, insouciance, long black coat, and whiskey and old blood smell. Dark blue eyes darting abut the room and settling on Xander.

"'Ee's back. It's Droopy boy."

"Not so as you'd notice," Cordelia murmured.

"Oi, and it's the Cheerleader," Spike smirked and waggled his eyebrows. Cordelia started to rise, slowly.

Dawn blew in a few steps behind him, shrugging out of her backpack. The backpack hit the floor as she flew across the room, catching Xander as he was rising from his chair with a grim, frozen expression.

"Xander!" Dawn wrapped around him like an octopus. "You're back!"

Xander's expression melted and he folded her in a hug. "Yup. Like a bad penny."

Dawn peeled off of him and thumped him on the arm. "You should have called, moron." She spun suddenly and squeaked, her hand going to her mouth and her eyes getting huge. "And, Cordy!"

Somewhere bats woke up and the rest of the glass in town shattered. She let out an ear splitting squeal and a blur of tall, willowy brunette, all blue eyes and long shiny hair glomped onto Cordelia like a limpet. "Cordelia, oh my god! Xander! You brought _Cordelia_?"

The thousand watt smile lit up Cordelia's face and she wrapped her arms around the fifteen year old, burying her face in the girl's hair, and then pushing her out to arms length.

"Look at you, Mini-me," Cordelia said. "You're almost as tall as me."

"She got all the height genes in the family," Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

Dawn stepped back and jumped up and down lightly for a moment. "Oh, this is so cool!" She whirled on Xander, "You're forgiven, jerk. You brought Cordy back."

Dawn paused for a long moment, frozen. She took two steps and grabbed Xander's hand, raising it to eye level and her mouth dropped open. Buffy's grin went ear to ear and she winked at Tara. Dawn whirled, and took the two steps back, yanking Xander along, to Cordelia and grabbed her left hand.

Her mouth worked silently for long moments and her eyes got even bigger.

"_You got __married__? You married __Cordelia__!? _Oh my God!"

She dropped Xander's hand and glomped onto Cordelia again so fast she left a smoke trail. She let go abruptly and danced back, still holding both of Cordelia's hands and babbling. "Oh my god this is so cool I'm so happy for you when the _hell_ did you get MARRIED?"

"Dawn! Language."

"Bite me, sis." Dawn flashed a wide insincere grin at Buffy and turned back to Cordelia, her eyes shining.

"Wait, you're happy about this?" Cordelia's grin could have lit up the Super Dome.

"Of _course_! Duh! If he's not gonna grow up and marry _me_, then he'd _better_ marry you! Oh my God!"

Spike smirked, and drawled, "Demon Bird's just gonna love this."

Xander straightened so fast his spine crackled, and he turned on the bleached vampire, his eyes going icy dark. Cordelia detached her hands from Dawn's and stepped over next to him.

Spike's eyes lit up merrily and he edged around them and into the room, avoiding a long shaft of afternoon sun slanting in through the dining room windows.

"Not really gonna be a problem, Not-so-evil Undead," Xander said, quietly. His hand went to his back. "The shop vac still in the kitchen, Buff?"

"Why yes," Buffy said, smiling brightly.

"Oh please, honey, allow me." Cordelia's eyes narrowed and her smile went fake and all plastic beauty queen.

Spike found a place to lean artfully against the dining room wall, out of the sun, and slumped into it, his thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his jeans.

"Wouldn't stake a bloke with glasses, now, would you?" He waggled his eyebrows, his smirk deepening, but his eyes got shifty and a touch concerned.

"You're not wearing glasses," Tara pointed out. Spike shot her a wounded look.

"Don't stake Spike," Dawn said. "Not fair to beat up on the harmless vampire."

"Wot nibblet said," Spike drawled. "I'm all defenseless."

Cordelia snorted, almost in unison with Xander. "You know," she said, casually, "The last demon that annoyed me crumbled to the ground in a pile of flakes and crumbs. Along with all his little buddies. And he wasn't even a vampire."

"Twice," Xander said. "Thraxx'll demons. And Sluks."

Spike began to look a bit worried. He straightened slightly, his eyes going to Buffy. "Not going to let them, are you luv?" He ran his tongue along his upper teeth.

"Out, Spike." Buffy was standing with her arms folded, looking at him from under her eyebrows. "Go away. Be elsewhere."

"Going to kick me out in the sun now, luv?"

"Didn't stop you from making it in here," Xander observed.

Buffy's eyes narrowed, and then she let out a sigh and just looked tired. She followed the shaft of sunlight to the window and back to Spike. "Sit. Or lean. Just until dark. And time for patrol," she said. "And don't be annoying while all the real people are talking."

A flicker of hurt went across Spike's face, Cordelia noticed, quickly masked. And a movement of something that might've been real pain in his eyes, briefly.

"No worries, luv. Be on my best behavior," Spike said. "And I wouldn't dream of annoying the _real_ people," he added, very very quietly.

Buffy studied him for a long moment, then nodded jerkily. She looked to Xander and raised her eyebrows.

Xander stared at Spike for long moments, his expression still frozen blank. Finally, he let out a shuddering sigh and the corner of his lips curled up, just a little. "No worries, luv," he said. "I won't hurt the neutered vampire right now."

Spike snorted, and everyone ignored him.

Buffy looked to Cordelia, her eyes pleading. Cordelia shrugged, overly casually, and said, "Your house, Buffy. I'm just a guest here."

"No. You're family here," Buffy said. Her eyes thanked Cordelia silently, though. "Ok, there's a beer in the fridge if you want one," she said to Spike. "And bring out a couple more for our guests."

"Aye aye," Spike snapped a mock salute, and ambled off to the kitchen. Xander eased down slowly back into his chair, followed by Cordelia.

Dawn looked between them, the worried crease between her eyebrows slowly easing. She pulled a chair around facing back to Cordelia and straddled it, her arms folded across the back.

"So, spill. I want to hear everything."

"Some stuff is above your pay grade, Dawnster," Xander drawled.

"Yeah. Buffy will make me censor the XXX-rated stuff, Mini-me."

Spike swirled back in and handed Xander and then Cordelia each a Tecate, and tipped his beer to them. He sat down wordlessly, in a chair pulled back to the dining room wall.

"Oh, please. I've watched Skin-e-max," Dawn said, tossing her hair. "I want the juicy stuff. How you met. What happened. And how you got married! Where you've been and what you've been doing since then."

"That _is_ the Skin-e-max version, Pippin," Xander said, grinning.

* * *

.


	18. One Night in Sunnydale

**Chapter Sixteen: One Night in Sunnydale (And the World's Your Oyster)**

* * *

"_Just once, I'd like to have an enemy against whom nonviolence would be a workable option_ – _workable in the sense of me __not__ ending up dancing on the end of a spear or cut into tiny, bite-sized pieces._" – Walter Slovotsky

* * *

"Ok, so tell me again why we're here?" Cordelia asked, her tone only about half bitchy, the other half teasing. She looked around the reasonably crowded Bronze. "Because for night life? This was lame in High School."

"Soaking in the nostalgic vibes? Reliving our days of wine and romance? Enjoying bleeding edge," Xander winced as there was a discordant noise from the stage, "Ok, screeching edge, music?"

Cordelia gave him a skeptical look, and he spread his hands in defeat. "I got nothing," he said.

She smirked, and then grinned at him, taking his arm. Her gaze went over the balconies, the stage where a half dozen people who apparently hadn't heard the days of hair bands ended last century, and the teens and college freshmen lining the bar and wandering the club.

"I just feel so old here, all of a sudden," she said, sighing.

"We _are_ old, Mrs. Chase-Harris, all of twenty-ish," Xander said. "And I'm starting to think we weren't that young when we were that young."

"So when did twenty-one, almost twenty-two start to feel ancient?"

"When we suddenly realized we'd seen more death by the time we were eighteen than a lot of combat veterans?" Xander shrugged and began leading the way over to the main bar.

"And that is _so_ not a depressing realization," she sighed.

Xander showed his I.D. and ordered them a couple of half-way decent California micro-brews from the selection. "Didn't say it wasn't," he said. "It just is."

"Ah, well," Cordelia shrugged. She brightened, grinning suddenly. "So. First encounters with the enemy came out a lot better than we'd feared, huh?"

"Even counting the Ungrateful Dead, yeah," Xander said, smiling. He put on a high bright voice, "They liked you! They really liked you!"

Cordelia bowed slightly, and said, "I'd like to take this moment to thank all the _little_ people of Las Vegas who made those moments possible."

They both snickered, and Xander smiled down at her. Cordelia was looking especially edible in a sleek, midnight-blue and skimpy clubbing dress with her hair up, and he'd put on a dress shirt and gray slacks for the occasion. Just because.

Because it was the Bronze, and he wanted to show off his new wife to anyone who might notice, because.

"So," he said. "My Dad, Buffy, Tara, Dawn, and even Deadboy Junior. Only Mom, Willow and, unfortunately, Anya left to face."

Cordelia made a face at the mention of Anya, but said only, "Willow will hear about it during her and Tara's date tonight, I'm thinking."

"And give me pure hell for not heading straight over to tell her in person," Xander said. "But then she'll probably hit me on the arm, hug me, and forgive me."

"Me, she'll skin alive."

"Naw." Xander said. "_Anya_ will skin you alive."

"Oh, that's so very reassuring," Cordelia said. She drained the last of her micro-brew and looked over at him. "Wanna dance?"

"I'm not sure I can dance to this. I'm not sure spastic monkeys could dance to this. And no comments – " He grinned and took her hand anyway, and began to lead her out to the dance floor as the song ended.

The hair band paused for a beat, retuning a bit, and then started an upbeat kinda metal Joan Jett sounding version of 'Sugar Sugar' that –

– Actually didn't sound half bad. They exchanged grins and almost skipped onto the dance floor.

"Wait." Cordelia tugged on his hand, and turned him, pointing. "Isn't that – "

"Jonathan," Xander said, following her gaze, nodding and glaring at the short nerd. "And where he goes these days, there goes Warren and Andrew."

She sighed. Xander scowled, and added, "Damn. I'm not carrying."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow and said, "Carrying?"

"So damn tired of these idiots," Xander said, nodding. "Tempting to just shoot them and put them out of everyone else's misery."

"Ah." Cordelia nodded, and said, "I am."

Xander's lips twitched, and then he smiled, "We'll hold it as a reserve option."

He danced while watching with Cordelia as Jonathan and Andrew strolled along the back corner bar, Andrew Welles carrying a little fruity drink with an umbrella. Jonathan was looking about nervously and seemed to be arguing with Andrew.

He spotted Warren farther down the curve of that bar, talking to some girl.

"Geeze, he _looks_ skeevy even," Cordelia said as Warren reached out to stroke the girl's face and she jerked back. "Let's wander over where we can keep an eye on them, just in case."

Xander nodded and started edging that way across and around the dance floor. "Yup. That's him; straight from Skeevy Are Us."

They were about a third of the way there when some big, jock looking guy came over to them and started talking and gesticulating at Warren. Probably the girl's boyfriend, or date. Warren was smiling and laughing. The jock wasn't. Andrew looked bright with stupid anticipation for some reason.

Jonathan just looked embarrassed and scared.

Still, Small Voice in the back of Xander's mind went, _'Danger Will Robinson. This is gonna turn as ugly as Klingon opera.'_ Xander agreed with Still Small wholeheartedly.

_'So why are you heading toward the fight?' _

Xander really didn't have an answer, but it was probably a rhetorical question anyway.

The guy grabbed Warren's shoulders and shoved him when they were about halfway there. Or tried to – Warren didn't budge.

Jonathan apparently saw something from the corner of his eye, as he turned towards them. Then he evidently spotted Xander and Cordelia and his eyes got huge.

Then they lit up suddenly, and he flashed a bright nervous smile at them, and nodded once, turning back to the upcoming brawl.

Big Guy took a punch at Warren, and Warren took it without blinking. Then he shoved back and Big Guy went flying back and into and across a table with several people at it. Drinks and table went everywhere. The girl screamed something that sounded like, "Frank!"

"Whoa," Cordelia clutched Xander's arm tightly.

"See your whoa and raise you a shit fire." Xander paused, dug something out of his pocket, and said, "Cell phone. Call Buffy."

Another guy shouted, and what was apparently one of Big Guy's buddies moved in and swung at Warren. Warren caught the fist, smiled, and squeezed.

There was a moist cracking sound that could be heard even over the band, and the guy screamed and fell to the floor. Warren looked around to find the girl running off, and visibly rolled his eyes.

Another guy rushed in and smashed a chair across Warren's back. The chair smashed to pieces, and the guy stared at the splinters in surprise. Warren smirked and backhanded him, sending him flying across the bar and over the other side into the racked bottles. The bartender scrambled to one side, out of the way, hastily, barely making it.

A couple of people were attempting to help the injured. Warren grinned, clasped Andrew's arm briefly, and strolled past Jonathan to the other end of the bar near the cash register.

He winked at a bunch of pretty girls in clubbing outfits nearby and said something that sounded like, "Oh, don't worry about the tab, now, ladies. It's on daddy tonight," as he smashed his fist down on the cash register.

It shattered and he came up with a handful of bills, shoving them in his pocket after waving them at the girls.

"Don't worry, babies," Warren said, moving toward the girls. "Daddy's gonna give you some too." They scrambled away from him, a couple dragging their dates by the arm.

"See now, I think it's the daddy thing that's throwing them," Xander drawled as he and Cordelia walked up. "'Cause incest, not all that sexy."

Andrew grinned, his eyes bright. Jonathan ducked his head and tried to hide his face when Cordelia caught his eye, turning away.

Xander stuck his hands in his pockets, strolling up. "So, uh, why don't we leave the ladies to their impending nausea and move the freak show outside, whaddaya say?" He stopped a few feet from Warren, looking down at him.

"Xander!" Cordelia shook her head at her – obviously – suicidal husband. No signal, dammit. Of _course_ not. She shoved the useless cell phone into her bag.

Warren glanced over at her, smirked, and looked back to Xander. Nodding, he said, "Okay. But lemme ask you something first." His voice went quiet. "You think maybe you could put in a word for me with that Anya chick? 'Cause if she's taking it from a vamp..." he smirked, "I think I might have a chance."

"Probably not even if you had Spike's dick," Xander said. He punched Warren across the jaw so fast Cordelia blinked.

Warren didn't even flinch, and Xander stepped back, cursing and shaking his hand out in pain.

"Oh, this is so cool!" Andrew said, practically gushing.

Cordelia looked over at him, her eyes narrowing. "Shut up, twerp."

Warren looked over at her, and back, then did a double take. "Well, well. Cordelia Chase. I think I see my next girlfriend."

She snorted, "You so _wish_."

Mears turned back to Xander, who straightened, "No wonder that Anya's screwing a dead guy. You hit like a girl."

"Well, at least I know how to get one," Xander said, gasping slightly.

"And I see you already got another one," Warren sneered. He scowled and punched Xander, sending him flying backward to land a ways away atop a pool table, and roll off to drop behind and between it and some of the other tables. Balls went rolling everywhere.

"_Xander_!" Cordelia shouted, then turned on Warren, practically growling.

Warren grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her to one side. "Wait for me, baby, I'll be done soon." Cordelia sprawled, legs akimbo, and slid a few feet.

"Oh, you'll be done all right," Cordelia ground out, rolling over and starting to work her feet under her.

Warren strode toward Xander, grabbing a pool table by the lower edge and casually lifting it and flipping it out of his way. Jonathan grabbed him by the arm.

"Warren! Stop. We have to go."

Warren shoved him lightly and Jonathan staggered back towards where Xander was sprawled. "We'll go when I'm ready."

"Hey, it's your call, but... " Jonathan made a show of checking his watch, saying, "We're gonna miss that thing you wanted to do tonight if we don't leave right now. That's all I'm saying."

Warren sighed, sounding exasperated. He nodded reluctantly, and crossed the rest of the way to Xander, who had managed to struggle his way up onto one elbow, shaking his head and reaching up to grab the edge of one of the pool tables.

"It's your lucky night, Shemp," Warren said. He sneered, leaning over slightly. Xander looked up at him dazedly, his nose bleeding and blood running down from his hairline. "Otherwise, we'd have to see how many girls you get with no face."

"We're just gonna leave him there?" Andrew said, looking around nervously. "What if he sics the Slayer on us?"

"Bring her on," Warren said, straightening.

"Oh, I don't think it's the _Slayer_ you need to worry about," drawled a cold voice from one side. "Asshole."

Warren and Andrew's heads whipped around to see Cordelia Chase, her hair disheveled and her dress strap torn at one shoulder, revealing a generous expanse of breast, barefoot, shaking off the arm of one of the Bronze's bouncers. She took a step forward, straightening.

Her eyes went fluorescent white. "I really _hate_ it when people beat up my husband." A luminescent glow began to build around her hands...

Andrew's eyes went wide. Warren took a step back, suddenly looking a bit less cocksure.

Jonathan's eyes widened, and then he grinned. He stepped to one side, away from Warren. His lips moved silently, mouthing something that looked like, 'Go go go... '

Everything went _white_.

An incandescent blue-white bolt of something lashed out, and caught Warren in the chest, lifting him up and slamming him back. He flew over a pool table, past several patrons who lunged hastily out of the way –

– And smashed into the bar, leaving a Warren shaped dent crushed into it.

"I remember you now. You were a tiny little toad of a creep even when we were juniors, Warren," Cordelia said, stalking forward, glowing with a nimbus of light. "I'd rather have had sex with Principal _Snyder_ than _ever_ have your hands on me."

Andrew scrambled back and to one side hastily, his jaw hanging open.

Cordelia bent and casually lifted Xander to his feet by one arm. Xander quirked a grin at her, shook himself, and sauntered over to where a dazed looking Warren was trying to extricate himself from the wreckage of the bar.

"Newsflash, Warren. Pissing off the Queen C is really kind of a bad idea," he observed, nonchalantly.

Warren glared up at him as Jonathan sidled up from the side. Warren got one hand on a broken edge of bar and started levering himself up.

"Uh, _quick_, grab his balls," Jonathan whispered to Xander, his voice urgent. Xander whipped his head toward him, his expression outraged and disgusted.

"His orbs, dammit," Jonathan whispered again as a still glowing Cordelia moved up to Xander's other side. "In the pouch on his belt."

Xander nodded, grinned, and took a quick step forward. He leaned down and in and snatched at Warren's belt as the shorter man pushed himself onto his feet, his jacket falling askew and revealing a small leather bag.

Xander grabbed a fistful of pouch and yanked, dancing backward with a wide grin as Warren shouted, "Hey!"

"My oh my. Whatta we got here?" Xander's grin went lopsided and his eyes went cold. Warren's eyes widened slightly, and he looked from Xander to Cordelia and back again.

Bright purple light exploded from Warren and then into the pouch and enveloped it and Xander. The light then pulsed rhythmically from the small bag and through Xander's body. His eyes glowed purplish as he gasped, shaking his head. He straightened.

"Huh. I'm thinking, my turn," Xander said, calmly and nastily. He stuffed the pouch into a pocket.

Warren's eyes widened into full blown panic and he scrambled back along the bar, Cordelia's still white eyes tracking him like lasers. He shot a look of pure hatred at Jonathan, and bolted suddenly for the Bronze's back door.

Andrew grabbed Jonathan by the arm, looking equally panicked, and started pulling him away. "Come on, man! We gotta go!"

Cordelia turned lazily, and the glow went away. Her eyes went back to their usual hazel. "Freeze," she snapped out. "Go kill and skin me a creepazoid, honey," she said, patting Xander's arm, "I'll deal with these." Xander grinned, nodded, and headed for the Bronze's back door after Warren.

"Jonathan! _Stay_," Cordelia said. She pointed down at the ground by her feet imperiously, chin up, back straight, and eyes blazing. "Come _here_, you."

Jonathan looked at her, met Cordelia's eyes for a frozen moment, glanced over at Andrew, and yanked his arm away.

"Jonno! We gotta run!" Andrew wailed.

"Screw that," Jonathan said. "And screw you two guys. I'm done."

Andrew threw him an outraged and panicked look, and bolted the other way for the front door, narrowly ducking under the grasping hand of a bouncer and vanishing into the crowd.

Cordelia sighed and looked after him, and then back to Jonathan, her eyes narrowing. He shook his head, looking ashamed, then smiled weakly and bent to lower himself onto one knee on the floor.

"You wanted me, Queen C?"

"Weasel." Cordelia growled low in her throat. "Want is _so_ very _not_ the word I'm thinking of right now. And get up, you look ridiculous!"

Cordelia blew hair out of her eyes, and gave the dangling strap of her club dress a disgusted look. She rubbed a bruise along one exposed hip where the other side of the dress had split open.

"I'm thinking you owe me a dress, Dweeboid," she said, then she slumped and gave him a disgusted look. "Jesus freaking _Christ_, Jonathan. How could you?"

* * *

Somewhat later, following a quick swing past Xander's apartment for a change of clothing, they parked Xander's still in-the-works Shelby at the curb in front of 1630 Revello Drive, and got out. Xander stretched, working his shoulders, and then rubbed gingerly at his nose. The bouncer at the Bronze had been nice enough to examine the small cut and bump on his head, and, after declaring it non-fatal and not needing stitches, slipped him a couple of Tylenol 4's.

Dulled the pain to a dull roar, but the damned schnozz was still tender.

Cordelia hauled Jonathan over by one arm, and he looked over at them, smiling slightly.

Cordelia had changed into a pair of designer jeans with purposely ragged seams that fit like a coat of paint, and a red halter-bandana top thing that hugged her bare tits and left most of her back bare. Yum. And a pair of low heel knee high red boots. Also yum.

He'd thrown on some black jeans, a fresh t-shirt, and his old leather bomber jacket.

"Man," Jonathan was saying. "I don't know how you talked the cops out of taking me down."

"Don't make me regret it, jerk," Cordelia said. She gave his arm a shake, and glared at him. "I am so disappointed in you. I _dated_ you – _twice_ – Jonathan. Jeeze."

"I know," Jonathan hung his head, all but scuffing the ground with his foot. "I– I don't know what happened. It just, kinda, got all out of control."

"I don't date _complete_ wastes of skin, dweeb," Cordelia said. "We're gonna get your lamer ass out of this somehow, and then you _owe_ me." She shook her head. "For _life_."

"And then probably far far beyond," Xander remarked.

"Oh, shut up,'" Cordelia said, smirking at him. "Let's go in."

"Just too bad Warren made it to their van before I caught up with him," Xander said.

They pushed open the door and stepped into the foyer of Buffy's house. Xander called out, pausing at the entry to the living area, "Buffy? Hey – we found Warren!"

He looked around.

"Actually, Xander's face kind of found him," Cordelia said. She stuck her tongue out at his mock outraged look. "Umm, Buffy?"

"Huh." Xander walked over to the staircase, pulling something long, black and limp off the bannister. "Spike's coat."

They exchanged looks and shrugs, and headed up the stairs, Jonathan trailing along behind. Seeing the half open upstairs bathroom door, and hearing movement, Xander rapped on it and pushed it farther open, holding the coat.

"Hey, your vamp boyfriend just can't seem to pick up after himself," he said. "Can't you housebreak him?"

He stopped, seeing Buffy sitting on the floor looking upset and as if she'd been crying.

"Holy crap," Cordelia said.

Xander looked down and spotted a large, ugly looking bruise on Buffy's upper, inner thigh and his face went grim. "The hell?" He knelt down on one knee, laying the coat to one side, and put out his hand. "Buffy? What happened?"

"Who did this?" Cordelia asked, softly. "Was it Spike?"

Jonathan hung in the doorway, looking miserable. He gulped when Buffy nodded and stepped back into the hall.

"Damn," Xander said, softly. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." Buffy said. She shook her head. "He tried, but... "

"Son of a bitch," Xander breathed. His face went cold and he started to stand, but Cordelia put a hand on his shoulder and held him down.

"No – don't," Buffy said, looking at them and shaking her head.

"Buffy?" Cordelia squatted on her heels next to Xander, and held her hand out. "Let me help you up. Come on."

After a minute, Buffy nodded and took a long shuddering breath, and reached out for Cordelia's hand. She grasped it and Cordelia stood, pulling her to her feet as Xander got her other shoulder, his arm around her waist.

"I'm ok," Buffy tried to shake him off.

"Sure you are," Cordelia said. "Let us help anyway."

They headed out of the bathroom and towards Buffy's bedroom, and Buffy stopped suddenly. She jerked her chin up at Jonathan. "What's _he_ doing here?"

"Long story," Xander said. "Which can wait. Let's deal with this first."

"Jonathan," Cordelia said, "Go down and get a glass of cold ice water, and a couple of really cold washrags and bring them up to Buffy's room, 'k?"

Jonathan nodded so hard he looked like a bobble-head doll, and practically ran down the stairs.

"Jonathan?" Buffy shook her head. "Do I want to know?"

"He gave himself up and we took him into custody, Sheriff," Xander drawled. They helped her into her room and sat her down on the bed, Xander kneeling in front of her, and Cordelia taking a seat beside her with her arms around Buffy's shoulders.

Jonathan ran back up with the requested items and Xander took them from him. While Buffy was sipping the ice water, Cordelia looked over at him.

"Scat, Jonno," she said. "First... Make some hot tea with lemon, honey, and a shot of brandy and bring it up. Then, go sit in the den and don't go anywhere." She fixed him with her best evil eye, "I mean it. Don't make me have to come after you."

Jonathan jerked like he'd been shot, and looked at her seriously. "I'm not going anywhere, Cordy. I gave myself up, remember?"

He paused with one hand on the door frame and said, "I hope you're ok, Buffy. And I'm sorry." He headed out and downstairs.

In between sips of water, and then brandy fortified tea, while Cordelia gently washed the tear stains and snot off of Buffy's face, they slowly got the entire story from her, up to Spike's horrified look and his bolting out of the Summers' upstairs bathroom.

"Ok, so. Deadboy Junior is soon to be Dustboy Junior," Xander said.

"No!" Buffy said, shaking her head. "He stopped, let it go."

"Can't let it go, Buffy," Cordelia said. "Not after this."

"No, you don't understand. He stopped, and anyway, it's been a whole mutual badness thing. I was using him too, fighting and fucking like foreplay, and he just... "

"No, Buffy." Cordelia tone was sharp, and Buffy's head snapped around to her, her eyes going wide and meeting Cordelia's. "You said 'no', right?"

After a long minute, Buffy's chin jerked up and down in a miserable looking nod.

"It doesn't matter what mixed signals you thought you gave. It doesn't matter what kind of sex and violence play you did before," Cordelia said, quietly. "No means _no_. It _never_ means '_maybe'_ or _'ask me harder'_."

Xander nodded. "Never ever." he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "How did he... ? I mean, the chip?"

"The chip hasn't worked on me since I came back from the dead," Buffy said in a quiet, almost dead sounding voice.

"Oh."

He and Cordelia exchanged looks, and nodded to each other. Cordelia turned back to Buffy. "It ends here, Buffy."

"No, I mean, I don't want to... "

"It ends _here_, Buffy," Cordelia said. "If he can hurt you, then this takes it beyond the pale."

"Crap. But not right yet," Xander said. Buffy's eyes jerked up to his face at his tone, and she searched his expression.

"What?" She sounded glad for the topic change, and, hey, who could blame her?

"We got problems," Xander said, and Cordelia nodded.

A door slammed downstairs, and they all three jumped. They could hear giggling and laughing voices, followed by feet pounding up the stairs.

"Tara, and it sounds like Willow," Cordelia said.

"Well, crap," Xander replied. "I was kinda hoping to do this a bit differently... "

Willow burst into the half open door of Buffy's room with Tara behind her, saying, "Buffy! I know I'm not supposed to be here and I hate to barge in like this and – " Tara piled to a stop behind her as Willow put on the brakes, her eyes moving rapidly from Buffy to Cordelia to Xander and back again. "Uh, hi Cordy." Willow said, and gave a weak wave.

"Hi, Willow. Hey Tara."

Buffy composed herself quickly and yanked down the robe to cover the bruise on her leg. "Uh, mind letting me get dressed?"

.

A short time later, they sat around the dining room table with Jonathan, listening as Willow and Tara went over their findings. Xander sat next to Cordelia with an ice pack against his face. The table was covered with books and papers from the Geek's lair, and Willow's computer.

By a kind of unspoken mutual consent, none of them had mentioned the attempted rape to Willow and Tara.

"Yeah," Jonathan said. "I helped put together most of those."

"We were able to decipher everything except these, pretty much," Willow said, holding out a sheaf of papers covered in weird writing.

Tara nodded. "I- it's not like any ancient or demonic language we've ever seen," she said.

"It's Klingon," Xander and Jonathan said together, then glared at each other. Cordelia and Tara giggled.

"Klingon love poems," Xander continued, "Which has nothing to do with the insidious schemes these idiots have cobbled together."

"What do you have that doesn't rhyme?" Buffy asked, rolling her eyes.

"This?" Tara said, holding out a CD.

"And these," Willow said, pushing a pile of papers across to Buffy. "The CD was filled with encoded blueprints and schematics."

"To what?"

"Well, fortunately, we have one of the scallywags prisoner," Xander drawled, gesturing to Jonathan. "Your cue, dummy."

Willow harrumphed and sat back, folding her arms. She stuck her lower lip out a bit. No one noticed.

"Uh," Jonathan said, "Banks, armored car routes, corporate vaults... This is big stuff. Warren is looking to score some serious bucks, and they're not planning just one job."

"Spree, anyone?" Xander said.

"I can't cover all of these, jeeze," Buffy said, throwing her hands up.

"You, uh, don't have to," Jonathan said. "They're hitting _that_," he pointed, "Armored car tonight. In... " he checked his watch. "About an hour and ten minutes."

"It's time sensitive," Tara said. Willow sat back quietly, still pouting at having her victory snatched from her jaws.

She suddenly brightened, and leaned forward, "Oh! Be careful, Buffy. According to those notes, if they completed that one thing earlier, Warren's gone all Mighty Mouse."

Tara nodded vigorously. "Eh- emphasis on 'Mighty'."

"Emphasis on gone," Cordelia said.

"I grabbed Warren's balls," Xander said, proudly.

Everyone looked at him, and his lips moved as he ran that through his mind again. Damn brain to mouth filter. Gonna have to get that fixed. The looks went half disgusted, half amused. "Uh."

"Orbs," Jonathan said, hastily. "He grabbed Warren's magic orbs. Orbs of Nezzla'khan." Willow deflated again.

"Oh." Buffy shook her head, looking like she was the next candidate for Cordelia's brain bleach. "That's good, isn't it?"

* * *

"Ok, there's the Armored Car haul ready," Jonathan said, leaning forward. "They're finishing loading up now."

They were sitting in Xander's Shelby, figuring that the remaining Nerds wouldn't recognize it if they happened to spot it. Xander and Buffy were in the front so Buffy could get out quickly when needed, and Cordelia and Jonathan in the rear seat. Tara and Willow were finishing their date – Willow had seemed a bit put out by having her fire stolen.

Screw her, Cordelia thought. Not, like, literally, of course.

The Armored car was parked in front of the currently closed new Tropical Adventures amusement park and wild water rapids. A banner strung between two poles extending up above the stone outer wall declared "OPENING WEEKEND!" while a sign over the stone archway gate read, "WILD RIVER ADVENTURES!".

The sign on the front of the darkened ticket booth read, simply, "Closed".

They watched as a guard took a clipboard from a suited guy and signed it, while the second guard came around and closed up the back.

"If they show up," Buffy said.

The two guards and Mr. Suit stood around for a few minutes shooting the breeze.

"I mean, Xander got Warren's secret weapon – they might abort and move to another plan," she mused.

"Not Warren," Jonathan said, shaking his head. "He's too arrogant. And he has contingencies."

"I wish you hadn't come with," Buffy said to Cordelia. "You could get hurt."

"Hey, she blew Warren over a pool table and through the back corner bar at the Bronze," Xander said. "And me, I got balls now."

"You're just never going to let that go, are you," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. Xander smirked.

"Nope."

Sigh. "Where was Dawn?" Cordelia asked.

"Staying with her friend Janice tonight," Buffy said. "Thank gods."

"Ah. Here we go," Jonathan pointed.

The guard from the back of the truck slammed the door as he got into the passenger seat. The driver started the engine up and the lights came on as he prepared to pull away.

She wasn't sure where he came from, exactly, but Warren was suddenly squatting at the back of the armored car, both hands on the rear bumper and lifting as he straightened. One corner of the truck came off the ground and the driver's side tire spun as the rear end came off the ground, tilting to the right.

Buffy was out of the car door like a quiet shot, the others following behind her.

The armored car tilted crazily, and then slowly toppled over onto the passenger side, landing with a rocking metallic crash.

Andrew came around the front of the truck, like Warren, wearing a black turtleneck with a black jacket half zippered closed over it. And black-face smudged on.

Looking like a _complete_ idiot, Cordelia thought. At least _Xander_ had looked sexy in his Nighthawk gear, back in high school. Andrew and Warren looked like Peter Sellers and Dana Carey. Very short ones.

As they drew closer, Jonathan lagging to the rear, Andrew looked up and spotted them, his eyes going wide. Then he smirked.

Warren ripped the door off the back of the truck, staggering slightly as there was a loud, dull, flat sound from inside.

A shot, Cordelia realized. Gunfire.

Warren shook his head and pulled out a taser, aiming it inside and pulling the firing stud, and smirking at the agonized sound from within.

"Hey!" There came a chipper call from on top of the armored car. "Is this your bank?" Warren looked up, aiming the taser at her and firing.

"Nuh uh," Buffy said, catching the wires behind the darts and yanking. "Already had enough shocks today." The taser pulled out of Warren's hand and went flying.

Warren shook his head. "You know? I was wondering when Super Bitch was gonna show up."

"Not nice." Buffy wagged a finger at him. "And, not to harp on the point, but if this isn't? There's extra withdrawal fees."

She leapt off the top of the overturned truck at him, and Warren caught her in his hands, tossing her easily over his head and down the sidewalk. Buffy hit, slapped the ground, and rolled to her feet.

"You really got a problem with strong women, don't you?" she asked.

"Nothing I can't handle," Warren sneered.

Cordelia wondered briefly how it was that Warren was so strong without the Orbs. Then Xander leaned in and belted him across the jaw, full strength. Warren spun once, in a full circle and staggered.

"I'd kinda like to test that theory," Xander said, smirking and rubbing his knuckles.

"My turn," Buffy said, cheerfully. She took a running leap and flipped through the air, landing in front of Warren. "I've been _so_ wanting to hit something for the last couple hours."

Warren took a roundhouse swing at her, and she blocked it. She snapped three fast side kicks into his gut, followed by one to the point of his jaw, and he staggered back.

She stepped in, throwing a jab to his face. Warren blocked it and jabbed back, left right. She ducked to the side of the left, but the right caught her on the chin and she wobbled. She threw a high snap kick at his head, and Warren blocked it and caught her leg, kicking her in a sensitive spot with his off foot.

He grabbed the ankle as she gasped and doubled forward with his other hand as well and threw her back and against the armored truck. "You're having kind of an off day, aren't you?"

"It's getting better," Buffy said. "And over to you, Stan," she gestured.

Xander smashed Warren across the upper back with the armored car door that Warren had torn off and thrown away, knocking him staggering forward. He reversed the swing and hit him again, and Warren went flying into the half open armored car, Buffy grabbing the roof edge and flipping up and back out of his way.

She grinned at Xander from the roof, throwing him a jaunty salute.

.

Toward the front, Andrew had squeaked and turned to run, until Jonathan stuck out a foot and tripped him.

He got up, babbling, and Cordelia, her eyes glinting, drew back a manicured hand and gave him a measured right cross to the button, right on the jaw. He yelped, spun around once, and collapsed.

"Weenie," she said, shaking her hand out and reluctantly grinning at Jonathan.

While Buffy and Xander were fighting Warren, they went over and climbed up to open the armored car door, helping the two guards out and down. The group of them stood in a small clump, watching the fight.

"Crap," one of the guards muttered, "Who the hell are these people?" as Xander smashed Warren over the back of the head with the armored door.

"Well," Cordelia said, "The one with the door is my husband."

.

Warren clambered out of the armored car back, dropping to the ground. Buffy jumped lightly off the roof, flipping to land in front of him again.

"That all you got?" Warren asked. He rolled his neck, making crackling sounds, and smacked one fist into his other palm.

"My turn again," Buffy stepped in and spin kicked Warren upside the head, reverse spin kicking him on the other side as soon as her foot touched the ground. She stepped in, grabbed his flailing wrist, and flipped him over her back and to Xander.

"And once more, over to you, Stan," she said.

Xander brought the door up from behind his back, over his head, and smashed Warren on top of the head with it. Warren staggered.

"Thank yew, thank yew, thank yew verra verra much." Xander smacked him again, sending him staggering back to and into Buffy.

"Two shows a night, we're here all week," he said. "Try the fish."

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

"And don't forget to tip your waitress," Buffy said, as she brought a roundhouse punch from back somewhere in Nevada and nailed Warren in the gut with it. He flew backwards, flying into Xander who went down with an 'oof!', Warren on top of him.

"Oops!" Buffy covered her mouth with both hands, eyes big and horrified. "Sorry!"

Warren rolled off of Xander and back onto his feet, casually ripping the door from Xander's hands. He smashed it across Xander's chest and lower face as Xander got up, sending him staggering back.

"Hey!" Cordelia yelled.

Buffy glanced around, reached down and ripped the other door off the armored truck, hurling it like a discus. It smashed into Warren's back, sending him staggering and dropping his door. Behind her, the third guard crawled from inside the armored car and wobbled to his feet, standing there just staring incredulously, his pistol dangling absently from one hand.

Striding over, she picked up the dropped door, and smashed Warren with it broadside. He went flying across the sidewalk and into the stone gate pillar, leaving an impact crater.

"Y'know," Buffy said, conversationally, "There's really only one way this can end."

Warren pulled himself up, grabbed a large stone block from the rubble, and hurled it at Xander as he moved in, catching Xander in the chest and sending him sprawling.

"Hey!" Cordelia said again.

A white flash enveloped everyone, and a blue-white bolt hit Warren in the chest, sending him smashing back into the gate pillar. He exploded, little bits of Warren flying everywhere.

The gate arch collapsed on top of where he'd been.

"And that's certainly one of them," Buffy said, slowly, her eyes as big as saucers. She turned to Cordelia, shocked.

"That's my girl," Xander said, climbing slowly back to his feet and blinking. "Gee, honey. You never let me have _any_ fun."

"Sorry, dear," Cordelia said, her own eyes pretty big and shocked. "Maybe next time... "

Bits and pieces of Warren continued to cascade down. One of them hit Buffy on top of the head, and she winced and caught it as it bounced. Her eyes went bigger as she saw that it was a partial hand with wires and cables coming out of the shattered wrist end.

"He was another god damned _ROBOT_!" She yelled. She threw the hand down and jumped up and down and stomped on it. "I am so _tired_ of those damned robots."

Cordelia felt a wash of relief – for a bit there, she'd thought that she'd blasted a person into gooey little Warren bits.

"Whassamatta Buffy? You never fight an unreal man before?" Warren's voice came from a distance off to one side. He stepped out from the shadows down the stone wall of the amusement park facade as everyone whirled to face him, holding some sort of blaster in his hand.

"You're right about one thing, baby," Warren said. "There really is only one way this can end."

"Oh, yeah?" Buffy said, a dangerous glint coming into her eyes.

"Say goodnight, bitch," he said, raising the blaster.

"Goodnight, bitch," Xander said, uncoiling from the follow through. A chunk of busted robot hit the blaster in Warren's hand and it shattered.

"Hey!" Warren yelled, glaring at Xander. "Dammit! That cost me a lot of time and money to make!"

Andrew groaned and started to rise. Cordelia snorted and snap kicked him in the temple. He collapsed again. "Sit stay. Twerp."

Buffy growled and started toward Warren.

Warren stepped back, and yelled, "You know who I am? Huh, Slayer?"

"A psychopath and a murderer?"

"Well, that too, but more to the point – " he said, "I'm the guy who's gonna _beat_ you and your little Scooby Gang eventually."

Buffy growled again and kept walked toward him.

"And it's not the muscles, baby," Warren smirked. "It's the brains."

"I'll remember that when I knock them clean out of your skull."

Warren grinned and ripped off his jacket, revealing something strapped to his back. "I swear to god I'm gonna take you down. You piece of... "

Buffy snorted. "You're nothing but a sad little boy, Warren. But it's time you grow up, and pay for what you've done. Promise."

Warren yanked on a lever and jets burst out of the silvery tanks strapped to his back. He shot up into the air, hovering about twenty feet up.

The three guards stared up at him, mouths open. One of them had his handgun dangling down at his side, forgotten. Everyone else just looked up, disgusted.

"Oh, come _on_," Buffy whined, sighing. "Get real."

"I'm gonna take you down, bitch. I'm your arch nemesis," Warren yelled. "Just wait." He reached down, twisting a knob on his belt –

– Just as another chunk of broken stone pillar beaned him in the forehead –

"And... _Good_ night, everybody!" Xander said from the follow through.

– The jet pack ignited anyway, and Warren shot off tumbling up into and through the air, spiraling and twisting as he disappeared into the distance.

Sirens howled in the distance, drawing closer, finally...


	19. Kissy Kissy Bang Bang

**Chapter Seventeen: Kissy Kissy Bang Bang**

* * *

"_I recently had my problems on the run, but now they've re-grouped, and are making another attack._" – Ashleigh Brilliant

* * *

"Buffy's not going to be happy with us for this," Cordelia remarked as they got out of Xander's Shelby. She looked at Jonathan, and said, "Stay. Wait for us – we'll be back soonish."

Jonathan nodded, looking lost and miserable. Fuck 'im. Lots of that going around tonight.

"And you care, really?" Xander asked.

"Well, no," Cordelia said, shrugging. "Just thought I'd point that out."

"Consider it pointed," he said, sighing. He grabbed hold of the cemetery gate and yanked, pulling it open easily.

"Jeeze, don't they ever lock any cemetery gates in this town?"

"The demons and vamps keep unlocking them," Xander said.

"Oh. Right." Cordelia shook her head. "God, I really hate this town." They set off along the main path through the graveyard, Xander's hands in his pockets and his head down.

"So... " Cordelia said. "Wanna talk about it?"

Xander stopped and looked over at her. "What's to talk about? I got pissed off and made a complete and total ass out of myself with Buffy and Willow after we got back from fighting Warren."

"Well, it wasn't _that_ bad," she started. He just looked at her, raising his eyebrows. She sighed, "Ok, so it _was_ that bad. But it's so not like you haven't done it before, right?"

"Gee, thanks ever so much."

"You know what I mean," she said, smacking him on the shoulder. "They've always forgiven you before, I mean."

"I never unloaded on Buffy after she had a bad guy get away and almost got herself raped, before," Xander said, morosely.

"Ok, so that part is new," Cordelia admitted. He nodded and they set off down the pathway again. "Let's just get this over with."

.

Earlier, once they'd gotten done with the cops and reports and everything, they'd headed back to Buffy's to celebrate. Or commiserate. Depends on your perspective.

Not much in the way of reports, either. The locals didn't even blink at the shell-shocked guards account of glowing women and super heroes fighting a killer robot who over turned their truck and blew up when the girl in the skimpy red top nailed it with a bolt of lightning. The guy with the jet pack didn't even rate an eyebrow raise.

Must be something in the water here.

Andrew had been hauled off to jail, babbling. The cops had let Jonathan go with them, after having it sworn to them that he'd tipped them off to the armored car robbery and Warren's attack on the Bronze.

No idea what would happen after Andrew broke down and started confessing everything including his kindergarten sins, including Jonathan's part in previous crimes. Maybe they could throw Jonathan on the mercy of the courts, or get him excused as a state witness against Andrew and Warren.

The delayed conversation with Willow had actually gone about as predicted. She'd chewed him out about disappearing and getting married without calling them, dammit. Slugged him in the arm and called him a meanie. And then grabbed him in a big hug, followed by doing the same to Cordelia and started pestering them with questions for details on the wedding.

It had been after all that, and after doing the post-fight description to Tara and Willow that the problem had blown up, when Xander had gone into the dining room to help Buffy clean up.

.

"Hey," he said, starting to pick up plates.

"Hey."

"Can we talk about you-know-who?"

Buffy sighed, knowing perfectly well who Xander was referring to. "All right, let's hear it."

"Well, it's kinda funny, y'know? All the times I told Spike to shove off, that he'd never had a chance with you, I should have staked him instead," he said, bitterly.

"Don't, Xander," Buffy said, sighing. "Don't blame yourself."

"Not. I'm blaming Spike."

"Not all Spike's fault, either," she said, sounding morose.

"Oh? Who's then?" Xander said, "Yours? Gimme a break."

"You really don't understand," Buffy said, shaking her head. She took a stack of empty glasses in one hand and a bundle of napkins in another and headed for the kitchen. He followed her, carrying his load.

"Yeah? Well, I'd like to. Really.

"You don't know how hard it's been," she said, setting things down on the counter top. "Being here. After I was brought back."

Xander sighed, deflating. "Oh yeah, I remember this conversation. I don't understand how hard it is for you to be alive in this world again, or something... " He sighed again, tiredly, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "Which makes Spike so understandable."

"You just _don't_," Buffy said, angrily. "You have no idea how hard it was – _is__ – _just _being_ here."

"You could have told me."

"You didn't want to know," she said. "Willow didn't really want to know."

"And Spike did?"

"Yes, no. Not quite," she said. "It was a thing, ok? When I found out he could hit me, we fought and we screwed, and it made me feel alive, dammit."

"Oh, gods, Buffy," Xander shook his head, spreading his hands. "Can you hear yourself?"

"Yeah, dammit, I can." She opened the dishwasher and started to shove glasses in the top rack. "It made me feel alive, and we'd fight and we'd fuck and I could scream at him and it got all the anger out."

"So you kept going back to him, got him hooked, and then he turned on you."

"I used him, Xander. I beat him half to death and he kept coming back! And it got all confused."

"Yeah. You forgot he was a dangerous thug. And a vicious animal."

"Crap, Xander," she whirled on him, her eyes gone all desperate. "I can't _believe_ we're going through this _again_. Same conversation. Hell – you fought alongside him when I was dead. Trusted him with Dawn even."

"Never ever forgot what he was, though."

"I didn't either, dammit!" She cursed under her breath, and started stacking plates in the 'washer.

"Well, it sure as hell sounds like it."

"Oh, yeah. And, not to beat a dead horse, but _your_ decision making has been so great lately?"

Xander drew back as if struck. "Thought you approved of me and Cordy, Buff."

"I did. I _do_," she said. "Dammit. But walking out on your wedding? And _then_ getting drunk and waking up married in Vegas just a few weeks later? You can't see where that might be a bit... "

"Best thing that's ever happened to me, Buffy," he said, hands in his pockets, looking down.

"And Spike was the best thing that happened to _me_ after I clawed my way out of my own grave!" She said, furious. "Until it wasn't and I broke it off."

"And he attacked you," Xander said, nodding. "And now you don't want us to stake him. Which is the part I'm not getting. Sorry if I'm being dense here."

"Auugh!" She straightened, raising a bowl above her head and smashing it down to shatter against the floor. "Because I _pushed_ him into it, dammit. I treated him like a loyal dog I could beat on, and like a dog he turned and snapped at me. And I really can't blame him for that."

"I can. I do."

"He can't hurt anyone else. And he'll never hurt me again."

They stopped suddenly, aware all of a sudden of the faces crowded into the kitchen doorway, eyes wide and shocked.

"Damn straight he won't," Xander said.

"Get real, Xander," Buffy snarled out, her eyes blazing. "This isn't about Spike! It's not about me, either! Not really!"

"Oh, yeah? What is it all about, Alfie?"

"It's about Spike and _Anya_. And you getting a chance to finally do something about it."

Xander's turn this time to jerk back like an affronted cat. He leaned forward and said in a deadly quiet voice, "I already had that chance, Buff. And I passed it by. It's nothing to do with that."

"Oh, yeah? Why don't I believe you?" Buffy's voice went just as deadly. "So tell me what it's about, 'Nighthawk', since my mind-reading aspect seems to be gone?"

"It _is_ about Spike. It's about having an unreconstructed _demon_ around – one that can hurt you. One that's already proven he will! Proven he can and will try to _rape_ you, dammit!" Xander sighed, "And maybe just a _little_ bit it's about your tendency to forgive someone _anything_ just as long as they have a dick and no pulse."

Heard the term deathly quiet? Everything went that way all of a sudden. Buffy's eyes went big as saucers and her face went white and tight with outrage.

Cordelia pushed past Willow and came over and grabbed him by the arm. "C'mon, Bogie. Time to go home and cool off before you say anything else, huh?"

"_Xander_! How could you _say_ some of those things?" Willow snapped at him.

"Gee, Will, I don't know. Maybe the black magic ran away with my mouth," he snapped back. "Hey! I know. Make me forget all about it."

Willow jerked back like she was slapped, like _he'd_ slapped her, one hand going to her mouth, and her eyes wide and horrified.

Cordelia clapped a hand over his mouth and began drawing him along. "Ok, that's _enough_. Neutral corners." He peeled her hand off his mouth, glaring at her, but didn't resist as she led him through the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Cordelia," Buffy said. "I didn't mean... "

"It's ok. We'll just head back over tomorrow afternoon, once everyone's had a chance to sleep on it, 'k?" Cordelia said. "And me and Xander have had a chance to talk this out."

Xander stopped, and turned halfway back. "I'm sorry, too, Buff. Really."

"Just go, Xan," Buffy waved him off, tiredly. "For now, anyway."

He went.

.

Now they were at the door of Spike's crypt, weapons in hand, and he was about to shove open the door so they could go in and finally waste the blonde smart-ass. Against Buffy's wishes.

And all Xander could think of was 'about damned time'.

No. Way past damned time. If he'd done this when he'd shoved Spike up against the outside of the Magic Box after seeing him screw Anya, he'd never have had a chance to almost rape Buffy.

Water under the bridge. He shoved the door open, Cordelia entering right behind him.

At least _they_ were both on the same page.

The TV was on in the main room, he could see it flickering with some old black and white movie. Someplace on the screen, Humphrey Bogart was saying, "Of all the gin joints in all the world... "

Ah. Casablanca.

Well, Louie, this is about to be the end of a beautiful enmity. They headed towards the big armchair and the figure slumped in it.

Cordelia snorted, and said, "Gee, play it again, Spike."

"Gah!" The figure gave a shout of alarm and jumped up in a shower of popcorn, chips and soda. A large, lumpy and dumpy figure, wrinkled all over like a humanoid shar-pei – who definitely _wasn't_ Spike.

"Suffering cats!" Clem clutched a hand to his chest, gasping for breath.

"The hell?" Cordelia blinked from where she'd jumped back, raising the crossbow.

Xander's lips twitched, and then he snickered. "Gee. Cordelia Chase-Harris? Meet Clem. Clem? Meet my wife, Cordelia."

"Uh, hi?" Clem waved, weakly, still holding his chest. "Golly. Where did you two kids come from?"

"Oh. Uh, hi," Cordelia said. "Didn't mean to startle you." She blinked, "Well, we actually kinda did, but we thought you were Spike."

"It's, uh, it's okay, you just snuck up on me is all." He chuckled weakly.

"Sorry," Xander said. "Made you spill your snacks."

"Ah, it's ok." Clem grinned, shaking the loose skin on his arm. "Like I need more flab? Can I get you guys something? I was just about to mix up some Country Time."

"Naw. So – where's the bleached wonder?"

"Ah... " Clem shrugged. "He took off."

"Ok, so, when will he be back?" Cordelia said.

"Uh... not sure?" Clem looked uncomfortable. "Are you sure he didn't tell you guys? He, uh, left town."

"Left town?" Xander blinked. "As in, left Sunnydale left town?"

"Uh, yeah?" Clem shrugged. "He was _real_ agitated. Kept pacing back and forth, muttering, cursing and kicking things... then he threw some stuff in a bag, tossed me the keys to his DeSoto, and headed out the door and got on his bike. Vrooom!"

"Did he maybe say where he went?" Cordelia asked.

"Umm. Not really?" Clem frowned. "Kept muttering about how he couldn't be a man or a real monster, and something... and then something about 'getting that bitch what she deserves'." He looked at Cordelia, and blinked. "Oh. Sorry."

"S'ok. I've heard worse."

"Oh!" Clem said. "Africa! He said something about Africa and getting, uh, her what she deserved."

"Huh." Xander slumped. "Not chasing his skinny ass to Africa, that's for sure."

"Me either." Cordelia blew the hair from her eyes.

"I'm surprised he didn't tell you. He kind of left in a hurry, I guess." Clem looked awkward. "Sure I can't get you something? I've got Bugles and, uh, liverwurst... "

"Eww." Xander shook his head, "But the Country Time sounds good." He went to one of the other arm chairs and flopped down.

"Xander!"

"It's ok, honey. Clem's a sweetheart. Think Lorne, but without the music and the colorful speech patterns." Xander grinned over at her. "And suddenly, I'm tired." He patted the arm of the chair.

"Oh, hell." She shook her head, and set the crossbow down, climbing into the chair next to him and draping her legs across his.

Clem went to the small refrigerator, and bustled about making lemonade. "Wow. Just married, huh? Sorry about you and Anya, but this one's a real cutie for a human."

"Thanks. I like her," Xander said, sliding his arm around Cordelia. "And thanks for the lemonade."

"Oh, no problem. No problem. I love the company. Say, do you guys like Parcheesi? Or maybe Risk?" He handed them their glasses and took his to the other chair.

"So, Spike just took off and left you this place and his car?" Cordelia said, sipping her Country Time.

"I'm staying here for him. Sweet pad like this goes empty for a few days, you'll lose it for sure. Plus, I... " he indicated the plasma television, "Don't have a TV. And I especially don't have cable."

"Only in Sunnydale," Cordelia said, sighing. She leaned her head against Xander's and started watching Casablanca.

* * *

Cordelia looked out the kitchen window, watching, and drinking a glass of iced tea. Mid-afternoon, and it'd already been a long day.

Jonathan had gone back to Xander's with them, finally. He couldn't stay at Buffy's and he'd been terrified to go home, swearing that Warren would kill him. Dweeb probably had a point. So they'd let him bunk on the couch, and left him there watching TV and putzing around on Xander's computer when they'd headed off to run errands.

After hitting the bank, they'd stopped at Xander's parents to drop off the check, and gotten fussed over by Xander's mom. Tony Harris had been at work, luckily – making an awkward scene a bit less so.

And then back over here to apologize to Willow and so Xander could talk to Buffy and try to repair some damage.

If he didn't stick his foot deeper in it. She sighed.

Willow and Tara came into the kitchen behind her. Tara went to the kitchen door and looked out through the curtain. "Oh, Xander. And Buffy."

"Ooh! Think they're making up?"

"Hope so." Tara smiled, letting the curtain fall. "That's the best part." Cordelia grinned at her, and they went to the dining room table to sit down.

.

Buffy was over by the side fence, poking at the weeds with a stick. Xander ambled over to her, hands in his pockets.

"Time for the Spring Poking already?" Xander smiled as she turned to see him. A bit weakly, but smiled.

Buffy blew the bangs out of her eyes and smiled back. Also a bit weakly, but he figured it was a start.

"Just making sure there are no more Evil Trio cameras. Or Evil Uno cams." Buffy shook her head.

"From the sinister yet addictive card game?" Xander felt his smile get lopsided and a bit more genuine.

"Nerds! Jeeze. Or Nerd, now, anyway. Andrew got clinked and we got – _you_ got – Jonathan in protective custody, but Warren's still out there, remember?"

"You'll find him," Xander said, shrugging. "He won't be much good without his friends"

"Nope." She went back to poking, not looking at him. "Your wife make you come?"

"Nope."

Buffy looked at him, and inclined her head toward the picnic table. "Let's go have a seat."

They moved to sit side by side on one of the table bench seats. Xander took deep breath, and blew it out. He fidgeted uncomfortably.

Xander said, "So."

She started, "So – "

They looked at each other, and he made a 'you first' gesture. She took a deep breath. "So, Spike?"

"Still un-staked. He was gone when we got there – left Sunnydale completely, Clem said."

"Ah." Buffy waved a hand, "Obviously I knew you and Cordy were going after him. Notice how I didn't rush to warn him or stop you?"

"I noticed," Xander said, nodding. "Buff... How the hell do we keep getting here?"

"Scenic route. Long drive," she shrugged. "Lotsa hairpin curves."

"The past few weeks... " he started.

"I know."

"I thought I'd hit bottom, with Anya, but... it hurt. That you didn't trust me enough to tell me about Spike." Xander paused, spread his hands, and repeated softly, "It just hurt."

"I'm sorry. I should have told you."

"Maybe you would have, if I hadn't given you so many reasons to think I'd be an ass about it." He took a deep breath, "And then maybe we could have headed a lot of this off."

"Guess we've all done a lot of things lately we're not proud of."

"And a few that we are," his smile grew bigger, turned into a grin. "I think I've got you beat."

"Wanna compare?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"Not so much."

"You'd win – I haven't gotten drunk and woke up married yet."

"Operative word: yet." Xander snickered, and after a minute, she started snickering also.

"Always still time, huh?"

Xander took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry, Buff. Sorry about Spike, and sorry he almost hurt you, and just sorry as hell about everything," he said, sighing, "I don't know what I'd do... without you and without Will."

Buffy's eyes welled up. "Let's not find out." She blinked, "And you'd better _not_ find out what you'd do without Cordy again, huh?"

Xander nodded and leaned in for a hug.

Buffy sniffled and said, "I love you, Lunkhead. You know that, right?"

.

Cordelia was only half paying attention to the conversation with Willow and Tara. She sipped her tea, nodding to something Tara said, and then froze.

She felt her eyes roll back, and her tea glass hit the floor, shattering and sending glass and iced tea everywhere. A cascade of images rolled across her mind's eye.

Willow's eyes widened and she said, "Cordy – ?"

Cordelia was up and out of her seat, and grabbing her purse before Willow got the word out. Tara's eyes growing big and huge as Cordelia rushed for the dining room door into the kitchen and yanked open the kitchen door, her hand going into the special pocket in the side of the big designer purse. Letting the bag fall away as her hand came out...

Cursing under her breath with every step.

Knowing, just _knowing_ she was going to be too late.

Gods-be-_damned_-fucking Powers.

Just god _damn_ them to hell.

.

Xander heard a slight sound toward the back gate and he glanced over Buffy's shoulder. He looked back to the girl snuffling into his shoulder, and then his head snapped back, doing a classic double take and his eyes growing wide.

"Buffy!"

He jumped up frantically yanking her up and trying to push her behind him. She resisted before he fully registered a hideously angry Warren stalking towards them, his face twisting as he strode forward, the pistol in his right hand swinging back and forth with each stride. With a huge, purplish-black knot on his forehead the size of a duck egg...

Xander let go of Buffy with one hand, twisting, the other hand going to his waist for the Smith & Wesson –

– The Smith & Wesson .45 JM that was in the console of his fucking _truck_, dammit.

Might as well be on the dark side of the moon.

.

Warren Mears had everything right where he wanted it, finally. So. Andrew's in stir and Jonathan's a traitor. Fuck 'em. And fuck the fact that his head hurt like an abscessed tooth and he still saw double on occasion.

He, _Warren Mears_, was about to make Sunnydale _history_.

He vaguely registered the sound of a slamming door and a wordless scream from somewhere, but it didn't matter, fuck 'em –

He raised the pistol in his hand and snarled out, "You think you can just do that to me? You think I'd let you get away with doing that? Wrecking all my plans?" His laugh sounded crazy in his own ears, and he didn't give a fuck about that, either. "Think again, bitch."

Turning a pair of crazed eyes on Harris, Warren added, "And _you_, you son of a bitch! Steal _my_ Orbs will ya?"

He squeezed the trigger.

.

There was a flat, sharp sound again and the Beretta jerked in Warren's hand. Once, twice, and then she was skidding to a halt, legs spread a shoulder's width apart, both hands on the grip – just like Wesley had taught her; just like _Daddy_ had taught her, so long ago – and the sights were lining up –

– Front sight. Only one that mattered.

"Hey, asshole."

Warren jumped, startled, and spun and his next shot went into the ground between them as he whirled to stare wide eyed across the seven yards of Buffy's yard separating them.

"Die a little, _creep_."

He fired again, wildly. Something plucked at her shirt, and Cordelia squeezed the trigger, a long steady pull. The Smith & Wesson Model 19 jumped in her hand and she thumb cocked it as it came down out of recoil, firing again. Once, twice, three times –

Warren jerked, and something plucked at the sleeve of his jacket, and then red blossomed on his chest.

Once, twice, and again and then the .357 was clicking empty, and he was falling, spinning down to the ground with the Beretta firing once more, muzzle down, and dropping from a suddenly limp hand. She crossed the remaining distance between them in six long strides...

Daddy always said that, whatever it is, if you can do it, you'd better be able to look at it.

Three center body hits, she noted, absently. One in the head. Not bad.

And crap.

Xander was down on his knees and Buffy was sprawled in his arms, red blooming across her abdomen and upper chest and she looked so still and _tiny_ that way -

Someone was screaming and running towards them and she spun to see Willow running to Buffy and Xander, Tara two steps behind. Unharmed.

At least _that_ part of the fucking vision didn't happen.

"Willow!"

Somehow she was over there with zero memory of how she'd crossed the intervening yardage, pulling Willow away from Xander and shoving her back. "Willow! Go call 911! 9-1-1, dammit!"

Willow looked at her blankly, eyes bleeding to black, and Cordelia slapped her. _Hard_. The eyes went back to green and flooded and Willow's hand went to her cheek, looking at her incredulously.

"We don't have _time_ for this shit, Will. Freak on your own time. Go call 9-1-1. _Do it __now_."

The red head stumbled to her feet, glaring, then whirled and ran for the kitchen.

Tara dropped to her knees beside them as Cordelia finally let the pistol drop from her hand. She was digging into a pocket as Cordelia leaned in over Buffy, placing her hands on Buffy's shoulder and abdomen.

Cordelia noted in an abstracted way that there was red on Xander's shirt sleeve and the sleeve was going dark and sodden around his left bicep.

She closed her eyes and snarled out a prayer to Powers she no longer believed in, and gods she hadn't since her mom died when she was three and a half, and felt something move within her, move _through_ her...

... And everything went _white_ for a moment.

And then she blacked out.

* * *

Thank God Tara had managed to convince Dawn to stay at Janice's parent's house, she'd never know how. Dawn _really_ didn't need to be here going nuts in this... sterile _place_. Bad place. Cordelia hated hospital waiting rooms.

Cordelia paced back and forth in the waiting area at Sunnydale General, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. Glad she hadn't worn a skirt today.

_'Jeeze. Of all the things to worry about and be glad for,' _Still Quiet said. _'Xander's alive. Buffy's in surgery. Tara's alive.'_

Fuck off and die.

_'They. Are. Going. To. Be. All. Right.'_

And I'll worry about my wardrobe if I want to. Got to have priorities.

_'Fine.'_ Still Quiet threw up her hands and paced along with her. _'And it keeps you from worrying about Buffy in surgery and Xander's arm.'_

Yup. Damn straight.

Willow was huddled miserably in a chair next to Tara with Tara's arms around her. Tara caught Cordelia's eye, and gave her an approving nod. Cordelia nodded back, smiling slightly.

_'Damn. I like that girl,' _said Still Quiet.

Me too. Sweet, and smart, and she's got steel all the way through. She'd have made a good Cordette.

_'Snicker. You'da eaten her alive. But she'd probably have kicked Harmony's ass.'_

"What was that stuff in the bottle you were pouring into Buffy's mouth when I... " Cordelia waved her hands vaguely.

"Glowed all white and then rolled your eyes up into the back of your head and passed out?' Tara smiled.

"Uh, yeah. That." She'd come to in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, Xander lying next to her on another stretcher holding her hand for dear life, a white, slightly red spotted bandage around his left arm and the sleeve cut open and away. And a tube in his arm.

"Restorative potion. Started carrying one when I saw how much we were all getting hurt, just in case," Tara said.

"But... " Willow raised her head. "You said healing magic didn't work!"

"No, I said healing magic is hard and dangerous _to_ work," Tara said, stroking Willow's hair gently. "Not a healing potion – a restorative. It concentrates the body's energies on what they want to do anyway when injured: heal the body."

"Ah." Willow nodded, sniffling. "Have to teach me that." Willow's eyes widened suddenly and her head snapped around to focus on Cordelia. "You shot him! Warren!"

"Yup." Cordelia nodded. "Shot him dead. Good riddance."

"You had a gun!"

"Doh!" Cordelia shook her head, and Tara hid a smile. "Single girl? L.A? I've had a concealed carry permit since just after I turned twenty-one. Hell, _Xander_ has a permit."

Willow spluttered, and Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"You carry a gun!" Willow said.

"And you and Tara carry magic and Buffy carries a stake. And Xander carries that big Bowie knife in a shoulder rig."

"You... "

"Jeeze, Willow. My parents are Republicans. Ok, SoCal, so, RINOs, but still." Cordelia snickered. "I've been shooting trap and skeet since I was twelve. I went through the whole executive protection thing in junior high when we had that big scare about families of traveling businessmen getting kidnapped for ransom and killed, and my parents and I did a lot of overseas traveling down south."

"But... " Willow looked to Tara for support, and Tara shrugged.

"I- I grew up in rural New Mexico, around guns and shooting," Tara said. "I can hit prairie dogs at three hundred plus yards with a twenty-two two-fifty and nail running jackrabbits with a twenty-two."

"You... !" Willow sat upright, staring. "I never knew that. How come I never knew that about you!"

"You never asked?" Cordelia suggested. Willow glared at her, and she grinned. She eyed Tara with a new respect. "But you look so earth mother and renaissance, Tara. I'd never have figured."

"D-don't stereotype," Tara said seriously. "It's bad for you." They both snickered, and then giggled at Willow's expression.

"I'm sorry, honey," Tara said. "We're not making fun, really."

"We're really not, Will. Honest," Cordelia made a cross over her heart. "Just... blowing off tension." Her smile curled a little broader. "And you looked just so- so- deer in the headlights I couldn't resist."

Willow glared again, then her lips started twitching and she snickered. Then started laughing. "Oh- no," she said. "It feels so wrong to laugh now."

"Oh yeah. And how many times has Xander made inappropriate jokes in a deadly crisis?"

"Yeah." The little red-head giggled, then sobered. "God, I hope Buffy's gonna be ok."

Cordelia opened her mouth, paused, frowned and went ahead. "I think... I think I may have healed her. Or something. I felt energy push through me and flow into her."

Tara nodded. "Or something. Buffy's aura was weak, and then it strengthened all of a sudden. Then you passed out."

Cordelia heard heels clicking in a determined stride behind her, and Willow glanced past her and her eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Ah. It's the new wife, and the best friend, and the lesbian girlfriend. Hello everyone."

Cordelia turned around, the broad beauty queen Pepsodent commercial smile flowing across her lips.

"Hello, Anya," she said.

* * *

.


	20. Smoking Cigarettes and Watching

**Chapter Eighteen: Smoking Cigarettes and Watching Captain Kangaroo...**

* * *

"_Love can sweep you off your feet and carry you along in a way you've never known before. But the ride always ends, and you end up feeling lonely and bitter. Wait. It's not love I'm describing. I'm thinking of a monorail."_ – Jack Handey

* * *

"Hello, new wife person." Anya gave Cordelia a brittle smile. "No one called me, so I heard about the shooting on the radio news, and closed the shop and came down here."

"I'm sorry," Cordelia said. "We were a little busy. And freaked."

"It's ok," Anya shrugged. "No one ever thinks to call the _ex_- fiancé ." She paused, "But I am losing opportunities to separate the gullible from their monetary valuations."

Anya had her hair dyed red-gold now, and she was wearing a smart business type pearl gray suit jacket and skirt with a fairly decent brand white, collarless blouse, and a single teardrop shaped snowflake obsidian pendant on a silver chain. And matching earrings. She looked smart, classy, and pretty. She held a black Giovanni purse clutched in both of her hands in front of her, down by her hips, the strap dangling to one side.

Well, Anya had always known how to dress, even back at Sunnydale High.

Cordelia noted the sharply stylish Ray-bans pushed up on her head, and the faint worry lines betraying the tension, around the eyes. And the carefully makeup hidden redness and puffiness there.

She smiled a bit more genuinely, and said, simply, "We think they're going to be all right. Xander got shot in the arm, but it didn't look too bad, and Buffy's in surgery."

"Oh, good." Anya nodded, letting out a slow breath. "Not that I care about Xander, you understand, but Buffy is a friend. A real one." She paused, "Even if she does giggle and say mean things with Willow about me when they think I can't hear them."

Willow yelped, "Hey!" and Anya smiled brightly.

Cordelia cocked her head, studying the other woman, and the genuine meter in her smile went up another notch. "They do that. They used to do that to me all the time. And to Faith."

"Hey!" Willow said, again, and Cordelia heard Tara shushing at her.

"How did you know I was the new wife?" Cordelia asked her.

"The supernatural gossip community is very efficient here," Anya said. "And I manage a magic store. Spike called after Buffy's. Drayler's son said Xander and his wife were fighting at the Bronze. Plus, Clem called me."

"Ah. Makes perfect sense." Cordelia could sense Willow frowning at her back and watching them with increasing puzzlement.

Anya cocked her head back at her, and studied Cordelia with bird bright eyes. Cordelia studied her right back.

She seemed to reach some conclusion, and Anya said, "We should talk, new wife person."

"Cordelia."

"I remember," Anya said. "I'm Anya."

"I remember."

Anya stuck her hand out, and Cordelia shook it. "Let's go talk," she said.

Anya nodded and turned with Cordelia and the went down the hallway together to another little waiting nook. Anya turned around to face her again, a few feet away, in comfortable speaking distance but precisely out of 'invading personal space' range.

Cordelia studied the other woman, not bothering to be covert about it. She was aware of Anya studying her back with frank and undisguised curiosity.

It was amazing to her, the lack of jealousy that she was feeling, Cordelia thought. This woman had been with her... whatever he was, and had been, and always was, for several years now. Her _Xander_. Where _Cordelia_ hadn't been...

In a different world, that never would have been. In a different world, Anya and Xander would never have happened beyond that night at the prom.

In a different world, _she_ would never have let him walk away from her at the gate on that long ago Midsummer night, and _he_ would never have left her waiting for him in L.A..

But they didn't live in a different world, they lived in the one that they had made. And here, in _this_ world, Anya had loved her Xander and kept him from being alone all of those too long years while Cordelia was wandering lost somewhere in Denial Land, too stubborn, too hurt, and too proud to admit what she was missing and desperately needing. _Who_ she was missing and needed...

That was worth something. No – that was worth _everything_.

And besides. Cordelia had Xander now, and Anya didn't. Nothing there to be jealous of.

"The news said that someone shot that horrid Warren person and killed him," Anya said, finally.

"I did that thing."

Anya inclined her head, examined her intently, and raised an eyebrow. "Good. Someone needed to. But Buffy and the others get so weird when you do the practical and sensible thing."

Cordelia shrugged. "Had to be done. Just wish I'd done it about two shots sooner. Two of _his_ shots sooner."

"And you don't seem to be horribly traumatized," Anya said, still studying her as intently as Cordelia was studying her back.

"He was a horrid little creepazoid troll, and a murderer. I'd do it again," Cordelia replied. She sighed, "And I'll probably see his face over and over in my dreams tonight."

"That's the way it works."

"You seem to be awfully okay with it, also."

Anya blinked at her. "I'm _Norse_. From a Norseland that's been eleven hundred years gone, now. _We_ ravaged entire coasts, killed the men, raided their belongings and livestock, and kept their women for chattel. Entire regions trembled when the dragon ships went out a Viking." Anya gave her a brittle looking smile, adding, "I'm not as squeamish as modern day humans. I never was."

Cordelia smiled back, nodding. "I come from a long line of pirates, gunfighters, cutthroats, and land barons. And I'm finding that I'm not as civilized as I once pretended to be."

"Good. Civilization is highly overrated."

Cordelia's head tilted slightly, and she said, "It's an act, isn't it."

"What?" Anya's eyes widened.

"The whole odd turn of speech thing and the social awkwardness and the blunt incomprehension of social mores." Cordelia's smile widened, and she nodded. "It's an act."

"Wow. You're the only person who's ever caught that," Anya said. "Other than Xander, of course. I'm impressed."

"Had to be," Cordelia shrugged. "You couldn't possibly be a good vengeance demon if you couldn't blend in and talk to women in all sorts of social climes and eras. Human behavior just _can't_ be that alien to you and have that work."

"Again, I'm impressed," Anya said.

"Why?"

"Because it's amusing to watch Willow and Buffy squirm uncomfortably and Xander turn red and wriggle all over with embarrassment when I blurt out something about our sex lives, or sex toys, or something horribly non sequitur." Anya smiled, adding, "And Giles splutters and wipes his glasses and turns red so cutely."

Cordelia nodded, "He does, doesn't he."

"And Willow thinks she's so, so smart, and yet she never ever put that together the way you did." Anya tilted her head, eyes bright, "And yet she sneers and feels so superior to poor socially awkward Anya."

Cordelia snickered. "Makes her happy. And she underestimates you, and that keeps her harmless."

"Yes." Anya said, simply. "But I didn't see that old demon acquaintance coming. And I didn't see you coming. And I should have."

"Because Xander never ever quite quit being in love with me."

"Yes."

"And you're back to being a demon again," Cordelia said, just letting it drop out there and lay flat.

Anya's mouth opened, and her eyes narrowed slightly. She closed her mouth and said, quietly, "Damn. You _are_ good."

"I'm part demon now myself," Cordelia said. "I seem to be developing a sense for these things."

"Oh? Interesting," Anya said. "And yet Buffy is the Slayer, with mystical demon sense, and she didn't sense anything."

"Buffy's never been really good at that." Cordelia said, "But, Faith now. She was nuts and dangerous, but she might have given you a problem. She was sharp."

"Good thing she's in prison then," Anya said. "Did Xander tell you that he converses with her? Through the mail?"

"Yes."

Anya nodded, then said, "So. Are you going to tell them?"

Cordelia shrugged. "I don't give a damn. Do what you do, just don't do it in Sunnydale or L.A." Her smile froze, and her eyes narrowed slightly and went flat and cold. "But if you ever hurt Xander, I will kill you. Dead."

"I believe you. It's so nice to have a straightforward professional dialogue for a change," Anya said.

"It is, isn't it?" Cordelia let the warmth flow back into her eyes and smile. "But it is a statement of fact. You know now that I can and will."

"And again, I believe you." Anya made a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry. After not finding anyone to wish vengeance on Xander's penis for me, I thought it over and decided that the jilted ex wishing horrible acts on her former lover was such a human thing to do. And I decided to be better than that."

"Better than human?" Cordelia grinned. "How... demonic of you."

Anya grinned back. "Thank you." She thought for a moment. "But he really shouldn't have left me at the altar to tell all our guests and friends it was off. That was terribly rude and inconsiderate."

"It was, and he really shouldn't have. My husband can be an idiot at times. So can your ex-fiancé ."

Anya nodded. "Lack of tact is simply not playing social games. Lack of consideration is simple self-absorption and thoughtlessness. It takes a great deal of deliberation to be properly tactless."

"You know?" Cordelia frowned slightly, then smiled. "I think we might could be friends," Cordelia said, sounding surprised to her own ears.

"I think we might also. We should do lunch." Anya's eyes narrowed. "How did you become part demon, if I may ask? You were quite human before, I was certain."

"Vision thing. They were killing me, and the Powers made me half demon to survive them," Cordelia said. "At least, we thought it was a Powers agent. Now? Not so sure."

"That's... not really possible," Anya said, slowly.

"That's what Tara said. Giles is going to help me look into it. And Buffy."

"I'll help also," Anya said. Cordelia looked at her, raising her eyebrows. "Oh, please," Anya made the dismissive gesture again. "Eleven hundred years of demon knowledge. It would be nice to have it be useful. And I find I quite like older you, surprisingly."

"Thank you."

"Thank you for shooting that animal that hurt my – our – Xander. And Buffy."

Cordelia shrugged and said simply. "He was going to finish Buffy and Xander, and Tara is alive still."

"You had a vision," Anya said, her eyebrows lifting a fraction.

"I almost may as well not have. It came at very nearly the too too late last moment."

"Then I am twice grateful. I consider Tara a friend also."

She nodded back to Anya, smiling. "Me too. Hrmm." Cordelia looked harder at her. "That necklace isn't your power stone."

Anya grinned. "After you caused it to be broken in that alternate reality where Xander and Willow were vampires, I learned better. I keep it well hidden now."

"Good plan."

* * *

When they returned, Willow gave them a distracted look, but was too occupied to either properly glare or be properly curious. Tara gave them a slight wave and a wan smile as they walked up.

A pair of men were standing in the waiting area talking to the other two women. Or at them, depending on which man was in question.

One was a tall man in his late, late forties or very early fifties with a receding hairline and graying at the edges, wearing a slightly rumpled, dark gray, off the rack suit. The other was a bit older, possibly at the late late side of his mid-fifties or early sixties, a bit shorter, and going to fat around the middle, his waist slumping over his belt. He was wearing a Sam Browne with associated gear and a Sunnydale Police uniform with a lot more braids and doodads than the norm.

He was also scowling down at Willow with his hands propped on his hips, looking properly self-important.

Both men turned slightly at the sound of her and Anya's heels clicking on the flooring as they came up. The suited man smiled slightly, and a bit grimly at them, and then a bit wider and a bit less grimly at Cordelia.

"Detective Stein, Chief," Anya gave a precise measure of nod to each of them.

"Ms. Jenkins." The uniformed man nodded brusquely to Cordelia as well. "Ms. Chase."

"Mrs. Chase-_Harris_," Cordelia said, in that tone that one uses with obnoxious children and small dogs that aren't housebroken. "Bob."

She turned her attention to the other man, and smiled warmly. Chief Bob Munroe flushed and colored somewhat.

"Detective Stein," she said, holding out her hand, "How are you." He took it and clasped it briefly.

"Cordelia," he said. "Could be better, and I'm sorry it's not better circumstances."

"Mrs. _Harris_," Chief Munroe said, showing he could do it too, if not so well. "I wasn't aware that you were back in Sunnydale. Or married. Especially to Alexander Harris."

"Recently, on both counts. And I wasn't aware of any obligation to inform the Sunnydale PD of my comings and goings or my marital status."

She heard Willow gasp and Tara stifle a giggle. Stein carefully swallowed a grin. Bob Munroe started turning slowly red from the collar up, and he shifted belligerently.

"You are not, of course," he said stiffly. "But I _thought_ you _might_ feel an obligation to assist our investigation with a statement or some answers. Considering you shot a man to death in my town."

Cordelia gave him a long seven count before gracing him with the toothpaste smile, quietly seething inside. The flush deepened under her scrutiny.

"I might. But I sort of thought that your detectives and officers had already interrogated and taken statements from the other witnesses," she gestured, "Such as Tara and Willow here. And Xander."

Both girls nodded vigorously, Willow managing to look both outraged and appalled at the same time.

Bob Munroe glanced at them, dismissed them with a look, and turned back to her.

"Of course, I was also under the impression that reading and comprehension were required by Mayor Wilkins of his toadies," Cordelia added. "And it's my town. I was born and raised here, and my father was reasonably influential here."

Stein had a coughing fit and turned away, burying his face hastily in a handkerchief. Tara looked... _suffused_, she thought might be the word. Willow was making choking noises and her eyes nearly bugged out. Munroe glared at his detective, and then down at Cordelia.

"Now, _look_, Cordelia. I'm inclined to let this go, so far, because your father was a friend of mine and we used to go hunting together," he shook his head. "And I knew you growing up. And I have a lot of sympathy for yours and Randall's problems with the Feds and your financial losses. But... "

"_But_ – That idiot who shot my husband and friend, and his buddies, have been running around Sunnydale for almost a year now, committing robberies and murders and apparently wandering around willy nilly," Cordelia cut in, smoothly. "It _can't_ have been that much of an investigation." She looked an apology to Stein.

Munroe swelled up, a vein starting to throb in his temple. Good thing they were in the hospital: he was beginning to look like a promising candidate for the coronary ward. Or a stroke.

"We were conducting an ongoing investigation and building a case. A case that is now – "

"Closed. Because I shot the asshole dead while he was in the process of shooting my husband and my friend. And we ruined a robbery he was conducting last night, saving Jungle Acres or whatever a lot of money. His accomplice is in jail." Cordelia cocked her head, raising an eyebrow.

"You had an unregistered handgun. Your husband had an unregistered handgun in his truck console. As well as several long arms. You committed a shooting involving a person."

"I have a carry permit. And the State of California doesn't require registry of firearms. Neither does the City and County of Sunnydale. Xander has a permit. And no permit is _required_ to have legal, cased, unloaded and not readily accessible weapons in a vehicle." She took a deep breath, unobtrusively, reining in her temper. "And I suspect strongly that a long arm won't _fit_ in a center console."

"Now _look_," Munroe jabbed his finger at her. "You know _precisely_ what I meant when I said that... "

"Chief Munroe." Cordelia's voice both dropped a register and upped in volume slightly, and cut across his like a knife blade. "Let's cut the crap, here, shall we?" Munroe blinked and that vein throbbed a bit harder. "We _both_ know that I committed an act of self defense. We both know that the only reason you've been police chief here for almost thirty years is because Wilkins counted on you to help Principle Snyder cover up all of the oddities at Sunnydale High and in this town and make sure they didn't get looked into too hard. And we both know the only reason my father went hunting with you and invited you to parties at our home is because he was a wealthy businessman, a property owner, and an Alderman, and it was an unpleasant requirement for him to kiss your ass every election year."

She took a step up, tilting her head back too look him eye to eye, and he stepped back almost unconsciously. "And we _both_ know that from the time I started showing tits, you'd ogle me every time you were at the house and make every opportunity to squeeze my knee or pat my arm or stand way too close to me and brush your dick against my ass. Had you _not_ been Chief of Police and Wilkins' crony, Daddy would have shot you dead and buried you on a hunting trip.

"Will there be anything else?" She smiled sweetly and stepped back.

"No," he growled out, suddenly aware that not only Willow, Tara, Anya, and Stein were staring at them, but so was every nurse, orderly, paramedic, doctor, and EMT in earshot. He glared at Anya, who simply shrugged prettily.

"I think my associate has covered everything adequately," Anya said. "I have nothing to add." She smiled sweetly.

Chief Munroe jammed his hat on, and spun on his heel and stalked out.

"_Cordelia!_" Willow jumped up, almost jittering in place. "You, he, you, you!"

"Breathe, Willow," Anya said. "That color can't possibly bode well for your health. And it's very unbecoming." Willow sucked in a deep breath and glared at her.

"I just wasn't in the mood for Bob Munroe's crap, Willow," Cordelia said. "And no one else here was either. So I sliced through the bullshit."

Stein put away his handkerchief and eyed Cordelia warily, still trying to swallow a grin. "I'd attempt to do my job here, Mrs. Harris, but now I'm terrified."

"Harry," Cordelia smiled at him, and then let out a long, slow breath. "Oooh. I want to strangle that that that – smarmy _idiot_. That... _politician_."

"But you hid it so well," he said, deadpan. Then, "Don't do that. I'd have to arrest you. And you'd really deserve a medal instead."

"Why is that... _pedophile_ still Chief of Police here, Harry? They couldn't get him out of office even with Wilkins blown into snake bits?"

"He kisses all the right ass at election times," Stein said. Tara's eyes bulged. "And he knows where the bodies are buried, and has dirt on all the right people. Or wrong ones."

"You you... you knew!" Willow exploded. "You _knew_! About Wilkins, and about- about... oooh!"

"Let's just say, I _suspected_, after a long while, Ms. Rosenberg," Stein said, sticking his hands in his pants pockets and hunching his shoulders. "And I was at Graduation in '99 for my ex-wife's kid. And I have no excuse for not suspecting for a long time before that. I'm sorry."

"But you could have done something! Anything! Done your job," Willow spluttered.

Harry Stein sighed, looking tired. "And if I _had_ done my job right, by the _book_ right, Buffy Summers would be in Stockton right now for the premeditated attempted murder of Faith Lehane. And Harris and Cordelia for robbing Fort Halleck's armory of that SMAW that's still unaccounted for. Instead of me shuffling paper and looking elsewhere." He snorted, "Damn shame those mall surveillance tapes got lost."

Willow glared at him for a long minute, then deflated and sank back, muttering.

"And you know as well as I do that it was kind of death to let on that you didn't buy Wilkins' act, Will," Cordelia said. "At least for anyone official, right?" Willow nodded, grudgingly, still glaring. "And you all _wondered_ why I couldn't _wait_ to put this town in my rear view mirror." Cordelia shook all over.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Cordelia added. "You were actually a real friend with Daddy. And I kind of thought you were always a halfway decent cop."

"I could have been better," he allowed.

"So, you're not going to interrogate us and write things down in your little notebook?" Anya asked. "And walk away several times and turn and point and say, just one more thing, ah... ?"

"No. We have statements from everyone except Cordelia here," he said, smiling. "And I'm not Columbo, so no."

"Oh." Anya frowned. "I was kind of looking forward to that."

Stein looked at her, slightly boggled, then shook his head and turned back to Cordelia. "I _will_ need a statement at your convenience. And you'll have to testify at a grand jury on the shoot, most likely." Cordelia nodded.

"_When_ you get no-billed," he said, "You can pick up your Smith & Wesson from property. And when you come by the station to give your statement, you can claim your husband's weapons and belongings from his truck at any time."

"B-bu-but, otherwise?" Tara said, her eyes still a bit wide.

"Otherwise?" Stein shrugged. "Not that I'd _say_ this out loud, but we're all better off with that Mears scumbag shot." He looked at them carefully, and said, "And I'm glad Ms. Summers will probably be ok. And your husband, Cordelia. Congratulations."

He walked off and out of the waiting area toward the elevators.

"He didn't say he was glad my deadbeat ex-fiancé was going to be all right," Anya said, huffing. "Or that he was sorry I'm losing money."

"Let it go, Anya," Tara said, smiling at her.

* * *

"You realize I'm never going to be mad at you again, Cordy," Willow said.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Will," Cordelia said, shaking her head.

"I mean it," Willow reached out and clamped onto her forearm, her eyes large and serious. "Never going to say mean things about you or snark at you just within your hearing again."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Those green eyes could bore right through you, sometimes. Cordelia blinked.

"You saved Buffy's _life_, Cordy," Willow said, leaning forward. "You saved _Xander's_ life. And you put that creep down so he couldn't ever do it again."

"Yeah, Cordy," Dawn nodded vigorously, her eyes sleepy and red and puffy. She'd finally managed to talk Janice's parents into dropping her off up here in spite of Tara's remonstrations. "She's right."

"And you made Chief Munroe turn the most interesting shade of fuchsia and sputter like water on a griddle," Anya said. "Or is that color a magenta? Possibly a puce. I always liked puce."

"There's just not enough thanks for that," Willow insisted. "And not enough forgiveness cookies in the world for going back on this."

"Well, ok," Cordelia said. She aimed her finger at Willow, "But – I'm going to hold you to that."

"Well, sure," Willow said.

"I mean it, Will. One snark or one mean look or one nasty eye-roll, even if it's when we're both one hundred and two and wetting our adult diapers, and I'm going to drag that promise out and beat you to death with it."

Dawn giggled, then fell back into her seat, guffawing.

"And a vague disclaimer is nobody's friend," Willow snickered, and let go of Cordelia's arm, sitting back with her eyes bright. "Deal." She stuck her hand out and they shook on it.

There was a soft throat clearing noise, and they all turned startled, to see a medium height, slender Pakistani looking man wearing a suit and lab coat, carrying a clipboard, looking at them. Cute, if she'd been into noticing that right now.

He looked them over and asked, "Who is here with Ms. Summers and Mr. Harris?"

"Uh... "

Tara stood up, with Dawn a heartbeat behind her. "We are, doctor... uh, Shamshir. Sir."

"How are they?" Willow blurted out, her eyes gone huge. Cordelia felt like hers might be equally as big.

"They're fine." Everyone let out a deep breath, slumping in relief. Dr. Shamshir continued, "Ms. Summers is out of surgery and is being moved into critical care. We had to do a lot of work on her, and then go in again to close some bleeding off again. She took a bullet to the upper chest, piercing a lung, and driving bone splinters into the left lung and near the heart. And one in the lower right hand abdomen that required restructuring and re-sectioning a bowel. And the removal of the rest of her appendix. Fortunately, it was angling downward and missed the liver and kidney."

"But she's going to be all right?" Dawn's lip was quivering.

"Yes. She arrested once on the table when we were removing the bone splinters near the heart, but she resuscitated fine within less than thirty seconds. And she _should_ make a full recovery."

Willow and Cordelia exchanged looks, and Willow took a deep breath and asked, "And... and Xander?"

"Uh... " the doctor looked at his clipboard.

"Xander. Alexander Harris. He goes by Xander," Cordelia took a deep breath and knew she was babbling, but couldn't stop, didn't care. "He only lets me call him Alex and he doesn't like it when I do, so I don't – "

Doctor Shamshir smiled and held up a hand. "He's going to be fine. He took a bullet through the meaty part of the bicep, up high near the shoulder. A .40 S&W round, like Ms. Summers. It nicked one of the big veins, but it didn't expand, and they had to give him almost a liter of whole blood and plasma in the ambulance on the way in."

"Okay... why was he in surgery almost as long as Buffy?" Willow shook her head.

"The bullet nicked the bone and sent a bone splinter into his chest, and we had to go in and remove it from near the aorta. He was _very_ lucky – we had to give him enough blood and plasma during surgery to almost qualify as a full transfusion."

"Oh." Cordelia sat back, suddenly feeling pale. She gulped. "When can we see him? Uh, them?"

"Are you family members?"

Dawn nodded, looking equally as pale as Cordelia felt. "I'm Buffy's sister."

"And I'm Cordelia's husband," Cordelia said, then frowned and said, "I mean, Xander's my wife. I mean, I'm Xander's _husband_... "

Willow clamped down on her forearm again and said, "She's Xander's wife. Mrs. Chase-Harris."

Cordelia shot her a grateful look.

"And I'm the ex-fiancée, Ms. Jenkins," Anya said from Cordelia's other side, waving at him.

The doctor carefully did not grin at her, or Anya, just nodded and said, "They're both in recovery and under sedation. It will be a little while, but you'll be able to see them soon. One at a time. And family members only while they're in ICU, at first."

"Thank you, doctor," Tara said, sitting down suddenly.

Doctor Shamshir gave them a slight bow, and headed off frowning at his clipboard.

"It's really good to know Xander has a husband like you," Tara said, her lips twitching at the corners.

"Oh, shut up," Cordelia gowled.

* * *

.


	21. Interlude the Second

**Interlude the Second: Playing Solitaire 'Til Dawn (With a Deck of Fifty-one)**

* * *

"_If you want to be the most popular person in your class, whenever the professor pauses in his lecture, just let out a big snort and say 'How do you figger that!'_ _real loud. Then lean back and sort of smirk._" – Jack Handey

* * *

It was a circle about seven feet across, with a star in the center, and it was made of silver and set into the glossy obsidian floor.

Candles of white beeswax were spaced around it at the points of the star, lit, and a shape of dancing flame hung suspended inside the center of the pentacle, writhing in upon itself.

There was a figure seated lotus style across from him, wearing a long, dark brown, ankle length leather duster, dark brown trooper boots, and a flat brimmed, beaten up Aussie style hat with a silver and turquoise set band. He had two days stubble growth, a scar across one cheek, shaggy black hair, and wore black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that said "Wizards do it in Pentagrams." The hilt of a familiar looking longsword angled off the sword belt, balanced by a holstered LAR Grizzly on the other side, and there was a chain with a silver pentacle around his neck. He had longish black hair and an eye patch covering a long whitish scar angling from above the eyebrow to down the cheek.

An ornately rune and sigil carved six-and-a-half foot staff of desert ironwood lay across his lap, propped in the crook of one elbow.

And he looked awfully damned familiar.

"Lemme guess," Xander said. "Time for another shoot the shit session with subconscious me?"

"Hah!" The other him crinkled the corners of an equally dark brown, laughing eye, a lopsided grin curling up the corner of the wide mouth. He snickered, "So, you have an inner subconscious smartass who comes to you when you're beaten half dead, too?"

"I have an inner smartass that comes out to play all the time," Xander said, "But, yeah."

"Heh. Know the feeling."

"So, ok, if you're not inner me, then who the hell are you?" Xander frowned, "Or is that whom? I can never remember."

Other Him cocked his head, examining him thoughtfully. "Not sure... lessee." He snapped his fingers, and said, "I know: what did you dress as for Halloween?"

"Uh... " Xander blinked. "Which one?"

Other Him rolled his eyes, "Only one that matters, dumb ass."

"Oh. Soldier. Fatigues and a toy M16."

"Ah." He nodded, smiling slightly. "Schmuck kid swiped the last toy rifle from the barrel and I had to improvise another costume in a hurry."

"Ok, so what'd you go as?"

Another eye-roll. "Tempted to say, 'guess', but we'd be here all night. A wizard. Geeze – now I know why Cordy calls us doofus all the time."

"Hey! I resemble that remark. And don't say 'I know'," Xander warned. He looked harder, and suddenly felt like banging his head against a wall. "Holy _crap_ – you went as Harry-fucking-Dresden?"

He couldn't help it. He started laughing so hard he rolled onto his back, clutching his arms across his stomach and rolling back and forth, guffawing.

"Yeah yeah. Laugh it up, fuzzball." Other him looked and sounded pained.

"I'm sorry," Xander said, rolling back up into a sitting position, still giggling. "But you went out dressed as the only man in the world who's a bigger butt monkey of the universe than we are. That's comedy!"

"Yeah yeah yeah," Other Him – call him 'Drander' for Dresden plus Xander – started snickering too. "Your point is valid. Asshole."

"At least you're a wizard now."

"Gee, somehow I don't feel blessed."

"You wouldn't." They sat and grinned at each other.

"How'd you lose the eye?"

"Y'know when mom told us why we couldn't have a BB-gun?" He pointed at the patch and said, "Mr. Benjamin is not your friend."

"Snerk. So you don't want to tell me. Ok, be that way," Xander said after a minute of that, "So, what are we doing here."

"I think," Drander said, looking intently into the swirling, suspended flames, "Some asshole shot you and you're in the OR under sedation having bone chips removed from your aorta." Drander gazed at him seriously, "That has a tendency to be freeing for stuff like this."

"Well, that sucks," Xander said. "And you? And is that," he waved at the flames, "Some sort of magical clairvoyance television thing?"

"Yes," Drander nodded. "And as best I last recall, something called a Dullahan put me through a wall. I think they're working on me too."

"Ouch," Xander said, wincing. Yup. Xander Harry Dresden Harris, all right. "And... how?" He waved a hand around the mystical area about them.

"Well, apparently, you're in deepest shit and you reached out acrost the Never-never and drew me here for a pow-wow. Me being in deepest shit also."

"Ah. Kindred spirits." Xander nodded.

"Pretty much," Drander said, nodding. "So, your nickel. What's on yer mind?"

"Surviving."

"Heh. Tell me about it."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that was rhetorical, but what the hey – I'm a gonna," Xander said. And he did, at length.

Wizard Him was a pretty good listener. He only made the prerequisite number of smart ass comments and wise ass jokes during the recital.

"Huh," said Wizard Him, after it was done. "Man. I absolutely hate those fucking Powers-that-be-Dickheads."

"No. Really? I'm starting to get a kinda active dislike for them myself." They grinned at each other again, and then Xander said, "Any advice? Or even comments from the peanut gallery?"

"Well... not much. Except," Drander held up a hand to forestall a smart-ass comment, "You're me. And I'm you. Nobody, but fucking _nobody_ hurts or uses our girls. _Especially_ not our Cordy."

"My sentiments to her, exactly. That's like someone hurting my Willow."

"Perzactly. Nuclear option time." Wizard Him looked at him seriously for a long time, frowning thoughtfully. "Ok... you need to figure out _which_ Power – they're not all a lump sum. And then fuck 'em up so hard their ancestors will limp for eons after. As an object fucking lesson to onlookers."

"Heh. Any thoughts?" Xander frowned, "And why is Wizard Me such a foul mouthed S.O.B.?"

"Been that kinda life so far, Kid," Drander said. "Huh. The PTB are more Angel's thing than ours. I leave them alone, they don't screw with me and mine, mostly," he paused, drumming his fingers on his staff and blue-white light began to play up and down along the runes and sigils. "This Skip guy is the key, though, I'm pretty sure. Find out who he works for and you have your target... " he said, and then Wizard Him grinned nastily. "And remember, Kid. We've been touched by Chaos, and we were a _child_ of freaking chaos before that. No one, but no one, not Fate, not Destiny, not Balance, not _nobody_ can get in the way when we have purity of _intent_. No one."

"Purity of Intent, huh?" Xander mused, pronouncing the capital letters. "You make us – _me_ – sound like an Incarnation."

"Oh, yeah – and _listen_ to Tara. Pull yourself the fuck together, Kid. Integrate," Drander scowled at him. "You got assets, use 'em. And you have a freaking God of Gates and Doorways on your shoulder."

"Huh? I thought that was dandruff," Xander said, brushing at himself.

Smirk. "Smartass."

"Hey, I'm you, remember?"

"Don't remind me," Wizard him smirked again. "It's Cordy, man," he said seriously, "Don't fuck up. You don't get any more chances."

"Noted."

"Oh – one more thing?" Xander looked inquisitive, and Wizard him said, "I'd start wondering about enemy action. Far as I can tell," he waved his hand at the roiling flame, "In no other alternity I can see here did Warren ever shoot _you_, uh, me... us, not even by accident. _Except_ for yours."

"Crap."

"Exactly. So... anything for me?"

"Hey, man," Xander looked across the pentacle with a serious expression, "I'll listen, sure. But I'm not about to try and give Wizard Me advice. Wouldn't know where to begin – me and magic aren't mix-y things, as Buffy would say."

"Ah, what the hell. We got time to kill."

* * *

Buffy's house. She was at Buffy's house. Cordelia was still trying to wrap her head around that one.

Ok, so not so much with the weird because, hey, they were in Sunnydale and Buffy's house is kind of Scooby Central when you're in ole Sunny-D, but the last she remembered...

Last she remembered she'd half-bullied and half charmed her way past the nurses into being allowed to stay in Xander's room past visiting after he was pronounced non-critical and moved to a private room from ICU. And she'd gotten tired – long day already – and curled up in the chair next to his bed and apparently headed to snooze-land.

How she got from Sunnydale Memorial to 1630 Revello without waking up, Cordelia had zero clue.

And more weird. Standing in the living room looking around, it _was_ Buffy's house, no doubts. But last she recalled – and she had recent memories, yes, thank you – Buffy's living room and family room didn't look like a Toyz R Us had exploded and left shrapnel all over them. Ok, so the 32" TV was tuned to Cartoon Channel which isn't so much of the different – hey, Xander and Dawn. And there was snack food left on the coffee table and end tables because, hey, Xander and Dawn...

"I swear. I'd think those kids were all raised in barns if I hadn't raised them myself... "

The muttering voice cut off right about the same time Cordelia's head snapped up and whipped around. Ow. Whiplash much?

"Oh." Buffy's _mom_ paused in the doorway between the family room and dining room, gazing at Cordelia through the living room archway. "Hello, Cordelia. Sorry – I was just trying to pick up a bit before you got here."

"Mrs. _Summers_... ?" Cordelia heard the rising note of incredulity in her voice – and didn't care.

She was across the living room and had glomped onto the older woman the way Dawn had glomped onto _her_ before it had even registered that she was moving. And somehow, she was leaking tears and Joyce was murmuring into her hair and had her arms wrapped around her and...

"Oh my gods," Cordelia said, leaning back. "Joyce! But, how, what, where... "

"Place between worlds, sweetie," Joyce said, smiling, She had suspicious looking moisture in her eyes, too. "And let me get a look at you." She stepped back, pulling away just far enough to be able to look Cordelia up and down, smiling, without _quite_ letting go. "My, how you've grown."

"Oh, god it's so good to see you," Cordelia babbled. But wait – you were," she clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes growing big and horrified. "I'm dead? How did I die? I can't be de – "

"Oh, no no," Joyce caught her up again. "No – you're not dead honey. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"Oh, good," Cordelia said, faintly, pulling away and stepping back slightly. "Because I was _such_ a nice person... well, not really, but... "

"But you're not ready to be dead," Joyce said. Smiling.

"Well, yeah."

"And you're not." Joyce looked her over, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "You look wonderful, dear. A bit tired, but that's to be expected."

"Good." Cordelia nodded decisively. "And yeah – it's been a long week. And it's not getting any shorter."

"I know."

"So... " Cordelia looked around, trying to wrap her head around this. "This is the afterlife? I kind of... " she shook her head, "expected the afterlife to be more Gucci and less Hasbro. And less clutter."

"Yes, and not really."

A tiny bundle of energy with wild dark wavy hair, a Batman t-shirt, and small leather pants came bursting through the dining room, almost smashing into Cordelia's legs before Joyce caught it and pulled it up short. Said blur being trailed by an even smaller blonde haired one in a blue sundress wearing tiny Mary Janes to leather blur's black Keds.

Blonde blur managed to pull up on her own, sticking a tongue out at dark blur. Big green eyes and huge dark eyes looked up at Cordelia as dark blur pulled away from Joyce impatiently.

"Now, girls. I told you not to run in the house," Joyce murmured.

"What's Cordy doing all big again?" Dark blur... actually, tiny Faith, about six or seven apparently, asked. "You were _supposed_ to be helping me tie Xander up and burn him!"

"Burn him?" Cordelia blinked.

"At the stake, dummy. We're playing Spanish Inquisition, remember?" Tiny Faith scowled, and added, "Boy you look ugly with tits."

"Faith!" Joyce said. "Language." She shook her head, and gave both moppets a gentle push. "Run along now. Cordelia's in here to talk with me about grownup stuff, that's why she's big now."

Little Faith's eyes narrowed suspiciously at Cordelia, and then she nodded and blurred off again toward the patio doors. Buffy lingered a moment, and Cordelia waved at her, feeling self conscious.

She got a shy smile and a finger wiggle, and then Buffy zipped off after Faith yelling, "Hey! Wait up."

"And _don't_ use real fire this time, girls," Joyce called after them.

Cordelia snickered, and then started laughing helplessly. After a moment, Joyce joined her, and they both laughed themselves sick until they were finally able to stop, wiping tears from their eyes.

"Oh, gods," Cordelia said. "That's adorable, in a kind of, well, frightening sort of way." Joyce snickered, nodding agreement. "So, your afterlife includes six year old Buffy and Faith?"

"Seven," Joyce agreed. "And five." She led the way to the family room picture window overlooking the backyard, Cordelia trailing along curiously.

"Holy crap." Cordelia said, looking out the window.

Let's see. Tiny Xander, being tied to a tomato tower by Tiny Buffy and Little Faith. A little Anya and a little Jesse in his wise man robes, about seven years old, along with a slender little mocha skinned black girl who looked vaguely familiar scrounging twigs and old leaves. A small Hispanic girl in a princess outfit attempting to untie Xander faster than Faith and Buffy could finish and not having much luck. Another small blonde girl who looked oddly familiar, was helping Jesse. A small boy with tousled brown hair and wire framed glasses in a little Fauntleroy suit sitting on the swing reading and ignoring everyone. A little red headed girl in rompers pestering him and being ignored, with a small dirty blonde haired girl aiming a small slingshot at the red head's butt.

And one missing... Oh.

_She_ was in _here_. Duh.

"Umm hmm," Joyce said, leaning against the window frame beside her and gazing out with a fondly exasperated expression.

"Uh... " Cordelia boggled. "Lessee. Xander, Jesse, Buffy, Faith, Anya, Willow... "

"And Ampata and Kendra and William. Err, Spike, I suppose you'd know him as. And Tara. And you of course."

"Wow."

"All my children, even the ones I didn't get to know for long."

"Kendra? And Ampata? And... _Spike_?" To say Cordelia was slightly incredulous would be an understatement.

"Well, William. Spike used to come over and talk and talk and have cocoa with the little marshmallows. And William's been here a lot longer than I have." Joyce smiled, "And yes, I know about the other night. Spike and Buffy are _so_ messed up." The smile faded to be replaced by a scowl and a sick expression.

"I'll say."

"Ampata was such a sweet girl when she stayed with us. And so taken with Xander. And yes I know about the... " Joyce made a vague gesture. "And Kendra was so polite when she stayed over those two or three nights before she died."

"Ok. But Buffy and Faith and Xander and most of the others aren't dead – " Cordelia broke off, her expression going horrified again. "Unless... "

"No. Buffy's not dead. And she's not going to be," Joyce said, firmly. "Neither is Xander. And thank you for shooting that horrid Warren creep, Cordelia."

"No problem. Xander should have done it when he made that Buffy-bot thing."

"Xander's not that ruthless, dear. Yet," Joyce said. "And yes, Kendra, William, Jesse, Ampata, and Harmony are spirits. The rest are representations." Joyce sighed, "Of course, Harmony's not one of mine, but she looked so lost when she showed up that I couldn't help but take her in... "

Cordelia hid a grin. "So. No little Angel?"

"No. Definitely not," Joyce said, her lips compressed into a straight line. "Angel never let himself be one of us before, or even when he came back... and then after he lost the soul he really didn't endear himself to me." She sighed, and added, "And Liam never showed up here, anyway."

Cordelia nodded. "Faith?" Cordelia raised her eyebrows, looking bemused.

"Well, I _could_ just _slap_ her for what she did after the coma – and did you know Buffy never even _told_ me Faith was in the hospital? – or turn her over my knee. But Faith was one of mine before, when she let herself be."

"So the afterlife is a day care center," Cordelia said, looking concerned.

"Well, _mine_ is," Joyce said, chuckling. "Yours? Who knows."

"And this is heaven?"

"No. It's... " Joyce frowned, and shook her head. "Hard to describe."

"I get that, really." Cordelia frowned. "So, what am I doing here, if I'm not dead? I mean – don't get me wrong: I'm _so_ glad to see you. I _hated_ that Buffy didn't tell us you were sick. I'd have come up if I'd known. Instead of just after with Angel for the memorial. Really."

"I know, honey. Really," Joyce said. "It's... ok, this is a kind of an... antechamber for lack of a better word. A space in between the Ghost Roads and the World's Dream and the Astral Realms. I have my own space here on the cusp of the antechamber because it lets me sometimes catch," she gestured out the window, "The ones I care about as they're either on their way through or stuck in the Ghost Roads." Joyce paused, and added, "And the Hanover girl, Lucy, stops in sometimes, and brings them to me. The ones that have gotten lost, like Harmony and William."

Cordelia nodded. She shivered, remembering that huge mess with the Gatekeeper and the Ghost Roads, and the lost Slayer, Lucy Hanover... stuck wandering the Ghost Ways as a Guide for, well, maybe eternity...

"And me?" Cordelia asked. She had a nasty thought, and blurted it out, "Or, crap. Did the Powers send you as a guide?"

"Oh _hell_ no," Joyce said, scowling. "Those _people_. The Powers-that-Be have little to do with the Summer Country except to meddle in it when they can. No. They're not in charge here."

"So... God and angels? Are you an angel now?"

"Uh, no. And I don't know. As far as I can tell, _no_ one is in charge here."

"That actually makes sense in context," Cordelia said.

Joyce nodded, and said, "And you're in a kind of a flux. You _almost_ came to me – and believe me, I am _so_ glad you didn't yet – when that, that... _operative_ pulled you up and gave you that infusion. And I suppose we owe him for that, damn it, as much as it galls me to owe anything to anyone associated with those _Powers_." She sighed. "And I kept an eye out after in case this chance came up."

"Chance for what?'

"From within you it devours," Joyce said, and that cold, sick icy feeling swept through Cordelia again.

Cordelia shivered, swallowed hard, and put her hand to her mouth. Oh. She said, after a moment, "_Oh_. That's what Other Faith mentioned. Before." Cordelia shook her head, feeling scared and exasperated, "But what does it _mean_?"

"It... " Joyce looked at her, frustrated. "You're the One Who Sees, sweetie. You'll have to see it," she shook her head, holding up a hand to forestall Cordelia's protest. "It's... there's no real rules for the dead, but there are constraints, I guess you could call them. For lack of a better word."

"And one of those _constraints_ is that no one can give me a straight answer on anything," Cordelia said, sourly. She huffed and folded her arms across her chest, blowing bangs out of her eyes.

Joyce shrugged and spread her hands helplessly. "It won't make you feel any better, but Xander is hitting the same wall. But he is getting some information, at least."

"Xander... " Cordelia swallowed hard at the thought that Xander was in this with her somewhere, and felt unaccountably warmed by that.

"Congratulations. And I am so happy for the two of you, even if I am a bit sad for Anya," Joyce said, smiling at her warmly. She sighed, "I was a bit dubious about the two of you back in high school, but Xander was so desolate after the relationship between you two imploded. And you looked so... _bereft_ at odd moments, on the few times I saw you after."

"Well, we got past that, finally," Cordelia said, looking away uncomfortably.

"I know. And honestly, Cordelia – at an In 'N Out?" Cordelia flushed all the way to the roots of her hair, and Joyce started laughing.

"You _saw_ that?" Cordelia felt like sinking into the floor. And here, that might work.

"Oh, yes." Joyce grinned wickedly at her. "And the lobby, and the mini-golf, and the elevator, and the janitor closet and the...

"Stop!" Cordelia held her hands up in surrender, mortified. "I am _never_ going to be able to hold my head up again. I am _such_ a slut."

"Nonsense sweetheart. You're a healthy adult woman with an active libido and an active sex life, that's all." Joyce smiled, but her eyes sparkled wickedly. "_Very_ active."

"Stop that!"

"Well, at least I know that whatever your place in the Summer Country is, it'll include a Xander," Joyce said, laughing. "Although, you may have to share him with Anya, Faith, and Ampata, and I know that's never been your strong suit."

"Oh, please," Cordelia waved that off. "I've been sharing him with Willow all our lives, and I at least _like_ Anya and Ampata. I'll deal."

"Seriously, Cordelia," Joyce locked gazes with her and gave her a serious look coupled with warm smile. "This demon thing? It _is_ a blessing, really. But there will be a price to pay. And you and Xander will have to work hard – _together_ – to make sure you pay it on your terms, not that of Ja– " Joyce broke off, scowling and looking frustrated, "... whomever is manipulating you."

"I will. _We_ will." Cordelia straightened and looked her back, dead in the eye. So to speak. "And _trust_ me: making life cough up on _my_ terms is something I excel at. Even if it has been a rough couple of years."

"I know. And feel free to visit if and when you and Xander do arrive here finally." Joyce smiled. "Or anytime before then, really."

"I will." Cordelia nodded, breaking out into her best, and most genuine thousand watt smile. "And, if I do get a chance to drop by in passing, how do I... uh, find this place"

"Oh, just... " Joyce waved airily and grinned. "A sidestep into the Never Never. Then out of the Ghost Roads, take the ferry across the Sea of Dreams and hang a left. Then – "

"First star on the right and straight ahead until morning?" Cordelia grinned back at her.

"Something like that, dear."

* * *

.


	22. Got a Red Light Love

**Chapter Nineteen: Got a Red Light Love (Makes My Heart Stop)**

("_Drives me so crazy, I can't even walk"_)

* * *

"_Some marriages are made in heaven. __Mine_ _was made in Hong Kong, by the same people who make those little rubber pork chops they sell in the pet department at Kmart."_ ― Tom Robbins

* * *

Ow. It was dark and muzzy and his mind was filled with cotton. And his arm hurt.

Actually, ow. It was dark and muzzy and his mind was full of cotton, and his chest hurt too. Hurt all over, matter of fact. The fuck happened?

_'You got shot and nearly died because the slug did something freaky and your chest filled up with blood, Hero,'_ Still Small Voice replied.

Oh. That. Damn – no wonder.

_'Yeah. And I'm thinking we just came out of anesthetic. In a hospital, going by the smell.'_

Damn. Und crap. He had an oxygen tube in his nose. Not of the good.

Xander cracked his eyes open, and sighed in relief when the room light didn't make his brain explode. No hangover then. Just... pain and aches. Oh, shit. Buffy!

He groaned, and there came a stirring from over beside the bed. He rolled his head enough to look over, and found him a Cordy curled up in a chair sleeping. Actually, stirring and starting to open her eyes sleepily. Still wearing the same clothes as earlier, complete with blood stains, and all rumpled and tousled and with bed hair.

And looking absolutely gorgeous. But he might be a bit biased, he thought.

Nah.

Cordelia sat up and stretched, yawned, and then the fact that his eyes were open registered on her and she sat bolt upright, leaning over towards him and taking his hand – the one with the IV tube, not the one with the hole in it – in both of hers.

"Hi," Xander said. Croaked, actually.

"Hi back," she whispered.

"Ok, when I get to heaven, I want angels with bed hair like yours."

Snort. "Jerk. I see you're not too hurt to be sarcastic."

"You'll _know_ I'm dead, then." Xander blinked. "Water?"

"Oh!" Cordelia went to the pitcher on the bedside table. Tray. Whatever. "You can have ice chips," she said, opening up the little plastic pitcher with the bendy straw and taking some out to feed to him. "Until the nurses say different."

The ice melted on his tongue, and tasted absolutely incredible. It tasted like Cordelia looked, and that was saying something.

"More," he managed to croak.

She gave him some more, and when his mouth no longer felt like a cat box, he managed to say, "Buffy?"

Cordelia's lips quirked, and she nodded and said, "Fine."

She waited until he'd absorbed that and his eyes cleared, and he nodded, then she elaborated. "Shot twice. Something about a .40 Smith & Wesson? But I thought that was a Beretta... "

He had to work at it twice, but managed. "Caliber. .40 S&W is a cartridge."

"Ah." Cordelia nodded, and fed him some more ice chips. "I know 9mm, .357, .38, and .45 and that's about it in handguns. Anyway, two rounds. Expanded. Something silver... Winchester Silver-tips? The doctor said. Anyway... one slug in the upper chest, smashed bone, drove splinters in and punctured a lung and went near the heart. One to the lower right abs, took out her appendix and some bowel on its way out. Angling down, so it must've been when she dropped to her knees and before you caught her."

Xander nodded, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he said, "But Ok?"

Cordelia nodded. "Yep. ICU, and they said she's lucky, but she'll make a full recovery." She smiled, "And since she's a Slayer, she'll probably be up and at 'em before you will, Doof."

"Ah. Cool." He closed his eyes again and smiled. He took some more ice when he opened them again. "So... " She gave him an inquisitive look. "Just got shot in the arm," he said, pausing. "So why do I – "

"Feel like hammered dog shit?"

"Yeah." The left side of his mouth curled up in an approximation of his lopsided grin.

"Probably because the bullet that hit your arm cracked the... ulna? One of those upper arm bones, the big one. And chipped it and sent splinters out and into your chest. And almost punctured your aorta."

"Ouch."

"Yeah," Cordelia said, nodding slowly with her eyes real big. "You suddenly had a plummet of something in the ambulance, and they started pouring plasma and blood into you like it was going out of style." She shook her head. "Scared the _crap_ out of me, Doofus."

"Sorry," he whispered.

"You better be. Dammit." She blinked rapidly. "Not ready to be a widow. Just now got used to the idea of staying married."

"I'm ok." Xander stared at her earnestly, doing his best to project reassurance. "I'm all _right_, Princess."

"Yeah. Damn straight," Cordelia said. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, and sniffed. "I'd of come in after you. Jerk."

He nodded.

"So, ok. Bullet curved around the bone after that somehow, and nicked one of the big veins. Started bleeding like a stuck pig about the time they found the chest thing. Your bullet didn't expand."

"Bullets do funny things," Xander said, nodding. "Good thing. Prolly why I have an arm an' not a bag of bone chips with an exit hole size of a softball comin' out."

"Don't say that." She shook his hand between hers. "I like your arms just the way they are."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and she flushed.

"Oh, shut up. Jerk."

"Your jerk," he said.

"Damn straight." Cordelia grinned at him. "And I'm keeping you now. You already followed me home and peed on the sofa."

He snorted, and then groaned, closing his eyes. Opened them again almost immediately. "Ok. Want drugs. But first—Warren?"

"Dead. D-E-A-D dead." Cordelia said, her eyes suddenly fierce.

"Good." He blinked. "You shot him."

Xander _vaguely_ remembered talking to the Sunnydale PD while the EMTs were taking Buffy out of his arms and loading her on a gurney.

"Yup." She nodded. "Shot him dead. Three in the chest, one in the head. One graze along the arm. Winchester Black Talons."

"Ouch. And, good. Nice grouping?'

Cordelia snorted, then started laughing softly. "Not bad, no."

"Hey." Cordelia quieted and looked at him. Xander blinked at her again, said, "Love you."

She nodded, curled up the side of her lips in a lopsided grin, and said, "I know."

.

Cordelia hit the call button not long after that, and nurses came bustling in and did medical things to him. And around him.

But they gave him morphine, and showed him the little bedside thingy where he could self pain medicate if absolutely needed, and that was cool.

They weren't happy that Cordelia had waited until she'd talked with him for awhile before buzzing them. Cordelia wasn't impressed by their unhappiness. Go figger.

Apparently, Cordelia had it worked out so that she stayed with him, because she retreated to a corner out of the way while they worked on him, and no one tried to remove her or ask her to go. He did note that the male nurse of the pair unconsciously flinched and covered his nads when he had to edge a bit too close to her...

He got okay-ed for real water, though, and that was good.

.

After they were alone again and he had the bed adjusted comfortably so he was half raised to a kind of sitting position, he looked at her and said, "After visiting hours? How long?"

"Late. You were in surgery forever it seemed, then in ICU. Until they declared you serious."

"They don't know me very well."

"Nope. You're never serious."

"You keep feeding me straight-lines." They exchanged smiles. "So... you. Not leaving? How?"

"Huh. Must be the good shit in that dispenser," Cordelia said. "You're monosyllabic."

"Leaving had two."

She snickered and said, "Charmed the head nurse. Browbeat the assistant head nurse. Told your other doctor – Ramesh, not Shamshir – that either I got to stay with you or his convenient carrying handle came home with me. Minus him." She grinned. "He believed me."

"Heh. So did that male nurse, apparently" Xander said, quirking a slight grin. "Tiny, but fierce."

"Damn straight. And I'm not tiny." Cordelia frowned slightly, smiled. "Ok. Your parents came, briefly. When they found out you'd be unconscious for awhile, they left again."

"Damn." He blinked.

"Yeah. We can't freak out your Uncle Rory. Your dad called him, and he came by for a bit while you were in ICU."

"Heh. Cool."

"Yeah. Your dad clapped me on the shoulder and said I'm getting his marine corps marksmanship medal for my next birthday."

"Hah!" Xander grinned. "I think my dad likes you."

"So I gather. He said you were a dumb ass for having a permit and leaving your pistol in the truck."

"He's right," Xander said. "That's my dad for yas."

"Yeah. You would've killed Warren before I got down the back porch steps," she scowled at him.

"Life is full of missed opportunities."

"Heh." She grinned at him again, then said, "Ok. Dawn, Tara, and Willow finally went home. Dawn was out on her feet." She shook her head, "I called Angel to let him, Fred, and Gunn know what happened. Anya stayed until not too long ago, but had to go eat and shower. She'll be back."

"Anya?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah. No big fireworks." She frowned again, slightly. "Something... oh. Jonathan is holding the fort at your apartment. He was horrified. I told him to use my car and go get groceries if he needed."

"Ah. Cool."

"You left your balls at home, dumb ass."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Your orbs. You didn't have them on you. Tara slid your knife out and into her purse before the cops got there, remember, but we didn't find the orbs."

"Ah. In my safe at the apartment. Didn't figure I'd need them."

"Shows what you know, idiot," Cordelia said, huffing.

"We don't know that they'd of made me bulletproof, honey."

"But Warren at the Armored – " She blinked. "Oh, right, robot."

"Not gonna carry them everywhere and all the time, Cordy," he said. "Demon power. Don't trust 'em. No offense."

"None taken, Goof." She smiled, "Just _use_ them when they're needed, ok?"

"Ok." He smiled back, his eyes crinkling at her. He frowned slightly, thinking. Remembering... "Tara," he said.

"Ok, huh?" Cordelia blinked at him.

"Need Tara. Get me a Tara."

"Ok, but, I mean, like, now?" Cordelia shook her head, apparently lost on the sudden turn.

"Well... " he smiled. "Maybe not _right_ now. But soon."

She nodded. "Ok. Gonna tell me why? Or gonna make me play twenty questions and guess?"

"Dream," he said. Cordelia blinked at him. "Had a dream walk-y thingy. While I was out. Want – no, _need_ Tara to look into the fractured aura thingy and refrag me."

"Ok. Oh! I remember now, her saying something about that," Cordelia's eyes widened, then she nodded. "And, oh – that's just too too weird."

"What?" His eyes searched hers.

She bit her lip. "I had one too, while I was sleeping here. And maybe earlier," she smiled, shaking her head slightly. "I saw Joyce."

"Ok, wow. Beats mine. I just see myself. Ugly smirking bastard. Can't see what you see in him."

Cordelia laughed, then nodded. "It was neat. Tell you about it when you're less drugged and more awake."

"'K," he said, his eyes closing slowly. They jerked open again. "Oh – "

"What?"

"Never got your dance, Mrs. Chase-Harris."

"Huh?"

"At the Bronze. Warren and the Idiot Brigade derailed it." Xander shook his head, "Owe you a dance."

"Crap. Don't worry about it, Dweeb. I'd already forgotten," Cordelia said. She rolled her eyes at him. "_So_ not important."

"Is too," Xander insisted, his mouth setting in a stubborn line. He held up his right hand, the one with the IV, fingers spread slightly. Cordelia blinked at him, then reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers.

He started bouncing his hand with hers in a reasonable approximation of the beat he wanted and sang, softly...

"Oh – Sugar, awww Honey honey. You are my candy, girl, and you got me wanting you... "

Cordelia stared at him, those hazel eyes going wide, then her lips split open in a wide, thousand watt grin and she started bouncing her hand and bobbing her head along with him.

She joined in time for the... "I just can't believe the loveliness of loving you... I just can't believe it's true... "

They grinned at each other, tears gleaming in her eyes, and hand danced to the Archies for the dance that dead Warren Mears had stolen from them.

And would never steal away again.

* * *

Joan Jett blatted "I love Rock and Roll" from her purse and Cordelia jumped. It took a her a moment to realize it was a ring tone, and then to figure out that it was Xander's cell from when she'd stuck it in her bag at the Bronze, oh, an eon ago. Roughly... She dug it out, flipped it open and held it to her ear.

"Hello?"

_{Hello, Xander? Oh, no I'm terribly sorry – I must have - }_

"Giles! Don't you _dare_ hang up."

_{Um, Cordelia?_} Giles' voice was hesitant on the other end...

"Duh. It's not the Tooth Fairy, Giles. But here? You never know."

{_My word, it is so very good to hear your voice. But I was rather expecting Xander at this number... }_

"Oh, you know, marriage," Cordelia said, waving airily even though he couldn't see it. "First you lose your sock drawer, then your wife takes over your phone."

Chuckle. _{So I'm told, albeit that I've never had the experience myself.}_

Cordelia laughed, and then sobered abruptly. "Oh, crap. I'm sorry Giles. Xander handed me his phone the other night – I'm amazed it's still charged – and the reason I still have it is because he's in the hospital temporarily."

_{Oh, my. Is he... }_

"He'll be fine." She sighed, "Warren Mears tried to kill Buffy, and then the rest of us. He shot Xander in the arm, and Buffy, and put both of them down before we could stop them. But don't freak – Buffy's in ICU, but she's supposed to make a full recovery, the doctor says... " Cordelia ran down finally and paused for breath.

_{I see. Well, that answers several of my next questions, I suppose. Thank you.}_

"Hold on a moment, please."

She'd been on her way to the cafeteria to grab coffee and snacks, with Anya and Dawn taking over the Xander sitting for the moment, when the cell went off. She looked around and quickly found a small waiting area and dropped into a seat.

"Ok, I'm all settled now. Hit me."

_{I must say, despite the circumstances, marriage sounds rather good on you. You didn't sound nearly as vibrant the last time I spoke with you before you were leaving Sunnydale.}_

"Thanks!" She was pretty sure that if she had Faith's dimples, they'd be dimpling for all they were worth right now. "It's... an experience, let me tell you."

_{Considering where I've reached you, and what little Xander told me earlier, I'm quite certain it is. A pity, you should enjoying a honeymoon right now, not dealing with hospitals and Sunnydale lunacies. And Sunnydale lunatics.}_

She laughed. "Oh yeah. Well, it's _had_ its honeymooner aspects. And _don't_ worry – we get done with this vision looking into thing, and I'm dragging _Mister_ Chase-Harris to Cozumel or Bimini for a _real_ honeymoon if I have to grab him by the convenient carrying handle to do so."

Quiet laughter on the other end of the connection. _{I have no doubt of that, Cordelia. You always were a determined young woman, as I recall.}_

Cordelia swallowed, suddenly feeling her throat close up from the lump in it. "Oh, Giles... God, I've missed you. I just now realized how very _much_ I missed you."

There was a throat clearing noise on the other end, and she could picture him holding the phone to his ear with one shoulder while furiously polishing his glasses. _{Yes, well. I rather, err, missed you as well, Cordelia. Your absence did leave a rather large and, err, not easily repairable gap in our group.}_

"Really?" Her voice sounded small in her own ears.

_{Well, of __course__.} _Giles' voice sounded a bit faintly and dryly exasperated, and it was such a wrench back to high school when he'd look at them over the top of his glasses with that same fond, dry, exasperation at their antics or denseness that it spun her head, and left her silently gasping. She felt her heart clench at the same time she unaccountably felt herself go lighter than air.

"Don't." Cordelia swallowed. "Don't, please. I don't know how much charge this phone has and if you get me wailing and sobbing here, Giles, you won't get anything coherent from me for hours at this point."

_{Of, course, my dear,} _he said, gently. _{I'd imagine it's been rather... }_

"Oh, you have _no_ idea."

_{Well,} _He made that throat clearing sound again and his tone went businesslike. _{So, you say that Buffy is all right, and she's going to recover fully?}_

"Yeah. ICU, check. Major surgery, check. But with Slayer powers?" Cordelia shrugged even though she knew he couldn't hear it. "She'll be back up in a day or two and probably one hundred percent in less than a week."

_{Excellent. Well, that does have something to do with why I've called. The Council is in a bit of an uproar at the moment, and I'm afraid it shall delay my leaving for Sunnydale for as long as possibly a week.}_

"Oh?"

_{Yes. It seems that there has recently – quite recently – been an indication that a new Slayer has been called, and it has shaken things up considerably, as you might imagine.}_

"Oh, crap. Faith... ?"

_{No, no. Apparently, Faith is alive and quite well in Stockton. With no life threatening issues whatsoever.} _Cordelia let out a breath as Giles continued. _{Which is rather a large part of what's causing the uproar, as you can well imagine.}_

"Uh, no. I'm not sure I can... ?"

_{Well, uh, you were aware that no Slayer was Called upon Buffy's second and rather more permanent death, at the hands of Glorificus?}_

"Nope. No clue. Color me clueless."

_{Hrrm. I was certain I'd made that point to Angel and Wesley when you were up for Buffy's memorial... ah, well. No matter.} _He paused momentarily, probably to gather raveling train of thought ends, and continued. _{The Slayer line apparently passes through Faith, with her being the Slayer Primus now. Leaving Buffy as Slayer Secundus and an, err, offshoot, rather than a branching line.}_

"Huh. Wouldn't mention that to Buffy unless I was well out of reach. She's kind of stuck on her 'I'm _the_ Slayer' shtick. I think she gets a lot of validation from that." A thought struck her belatedly – been a long, stressful day – and she said, "Oh! Wait – Buffy supposedly flat-lined for, like, under thirty seconds on the operating table."

_{Hrrm.} _Cordelia got the impression of furious glasses polishing action this time. _{Fascinating. If that's the case, then... it seems... hrrm. It might be possible that Willow managed to Call Buffy again when she resurrected_ _her.}_

"Meaning... "

_{I'm not certain. One thing, is that it means there are now __two_ _Slayer lines, and the ramifications of that I can't begin to imagine. If Willow managed to wrench the lineage from Faith... }_

"Wow. Ok, major badness, I'm sure. Not even a Watcher and I can catch that curve ball."

_{Yes. Quite. Meddling in mystical forces of that magnitude and antiquity cannot __possibly_ _be without ramifications, and, uh, repercussions.}_

"Ok, and, wow – again, I want to be in another county when you have that discussion with Willow. Country, maybe. I'm getting that she's a bit touchy about criticism of her magic use these days."

_{Yes. I am aware.} _Giles' voice was dry enough to take moisture out of your pores with.

"Ok. So, Watcher's Council is doing the 'run in circles, scream and shout' thing. Check."

_{Quite. So, whilst I have made some effort at your situation, in between wrapping up affairs, packing and closing down my flat for an extended absence, preparing references for shipment, __and_ _dealing with a bunch of __quietly __panicking fossils... }_

Cordelia laughed, "It hasn't been as much effort as you'd like. I get it," she said.

_{Yes.} _She could hear the quiet laugh in Giles' voice_. __{You should see them, Cordelia, I believe you'd find it hilarious. As I said: a bunch of maundering fossils who seem to be convinced that only I can possibly understand and interpret what is transpiring in the Colonies, as I am woefully... Americanized.}_

Cordelia burst out laughing at that, as much at the dry humour and exasperation in Giles' voice as at the mental image of Giles being 'Americanized'. "Oh, my God. _You?_ A- a _Colonial?_ Bwaha! That _is_ priceless!"

_{Quite.} _She could_hear_Giles nodding at the other end, and polishing his glasses, those green eyes glinting with malicious amusement. _{However, I __have__ managed_ _to do _some_ reading in the archives on Seers, past, and present. I'm afraid that I can __not_ _find __any_ _historical reference_ _indicating an instance where visions or Seer abilities were passed or given to someone. As in, an infection, or aspect, as it were.}_

"Oh."

Cordelia was suddenly glad she was seated, because otherwise she'd be sitting on the floor right now, with no idea of how she'd gotten there. She swallowed, hard, feeling faint.

_{Cordelia? Are you all right, my dear? Cordelia!}_

"I'm here," she managed. "And, no... I'm _not_ all right. But... wait, what? What about that Tammy girl? The one from the, uh, 1630s?"

{Hrrm. Who?}

"_Tammy_. I met her on the, uh, Astral Planes thing, Skip showed her to me. She was a Vision Girl like me, she said, uh, she had an accent like Spike's, y'know, Cockney?" Cordelia said, aware that she was starting to babble, "And she said that way back when, the villagers wanted to burn her at the stake, they thought she was a witch... and the visions blew her head out and killed her... "

Cordelia trailed off, suddenly feeling very cold and terrified she'd been lied to. And a slow, building, and deep burning rage...

{_Uh, ah... no, I'm afraid that that doesn't ring any bells for me, my dear. I, I'm sorry, Cordelia. I've found no trace of anyone in the archives matching that description acting as a Seer, o-or messenger for the Powers-that-Be_.} Giles sounded apologetic. {_And if your information is accurate, then I... I should, um, have already done so._}

"But... " Cordelia swallowed hard, feeling the hurt and the icy anger begin to fester. "Skip told me... he said that only demons were meant to have the visons. Humans weren't meant to be able to handle them."

{_Oh, poppycock, Cordelia._} Giles said, sounding exasperated again. {_Cassandra? The Oracles at Delphi? I can assure you that to the best of my knowledge, and to the very best of the knowledge of the archives, that none of them were demonic in nature._}

"But... "

{_Now, possibly __other__ than demonic, I'll grant you._} Giles said. {_According to mythology, Cassandra of Troy, the Delphinium Oracles, the Sybils, and Persephone were all the offspring of divine or demi-god natured beings to one degree or another. There is _some_ speculation, speculation with a good basis in solid research, that a trace of demi-god heritage and blood __may__ be at the root of _all_ human psychic abilities. Possibly even at the root of the Slayer origins, although that is purely speculative at the moment... _}

"You mean... you mean Doyle _didn't_ give me the visions or- or– or _infect_ me with them or something?" That was like getting punched in the stomach at the same time Ed McMahon hands you the check.

Still Quiet Voice went, _'Yes! Doyle __didn't_ _screw us over! He __did_ _love us, see! Neener neener. Bool-yah!'_

_{No. I believe not. As far as I'm able to ascertain, Cordelia, clairvoyants and Seers are _born_, not made. It is a normal, natural_ – _albeit __very_ _rare_ – _and __human_ _ability.} _He paused. _{Well, there __are_ _demonic Seers and psychics also, of course, but –_ _}_

"I. Am. Going. To. _K__ill._ Wesley," Cordelia said, very quietly and fiercely. Almost hissed it as a matter of fact.

_{Well, uh, I have access to – }_

"And. That. _Skip_... ooohhh!" She growled it, this time. She was vaguely aware of a faint brightness to everything around her. Huh. My hand is glowing slightly, she thought. "You mean _Xander_ was _right_?"

_{Well, I, err, uh, well, yes, possibly – }_

"So why were the visions _killing_ me, Giles? Why the _brain_ damage? Why the- the pain– no- freaking _agony_ with them?"

_{Cordelia.} _It was said so quietly and gently and caringly that it yanked her back from the edge of some abyss she was only barely aware she'd been standing at. Her glow slowly faded away.

"I'm... " she took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "I'm better now, Giles. Or under control, at least."

_{I quite understand, dear. And the best I can tell you without a great deal more research is that Seers and clairvoyants are awakened, not made. __If the historical records are anything to go by, y__ou would _– _should_ – _have begun coming into your abilities _naturally_ at some point between your twenty-first and twenty-__fifth__ birthdays, without all the accumulated trauma. Had they not been __forcibly_ _awakened __early__, I believe.}_

"I'm am going to find the Powers-that-be-_fucking_-with-me, and I am going to _destroy_ them, Giles."

_{And I will do everything in my power to help you, Cordelia.} _Giles' voice was quiet, soft and rich and dangerous sounding. _{As, I'm sure, shall Xander. And Buffy and the rest. We do not allow our own to b-be... frivolously __damaged_ _in this way without attempting to do __something_ _about it.}_

"Thank you, Giles. Thank you so very much," she felt her voice break and her eyes well up. "Uh... this phone is making low battery noises at me and... "

_{I quite understand. I shall make every effort to see and speak with you further in person, as soon as is humanly – and Watcherly – possible.}_

"Good bye, Giles."

_{So long Cordelia. And, fare well.}_

She closed the phone and sat there very quiet and still for a long while, tears running down her face unnoticed and unheeded.

* * *

She was still sitting and staring at nothing in particular with no idea of how much time had passed, if any, when she became vaguely aware of footsteps and someone standing in front of her. Two someones. She looked up.

Oh. Gunn and Fred. That late already?

Gunn had his hands stuck in his pockets and was looking down at her, an alarmed expression on his face. So was Fred, wearing a light summer dress and Gunn's leather jacket and holding a white paper bag with a rolled up top in her hands and an Espresso Pump tray with four coffees. Fred's eyes were slowly going saucer big.

"Hey," Cordelia said, sniffling and wiping at her cheeks with the heel of a hand.

"Oh, honey," Fred said. She hastily set the bag and the coffee tray on a seat nearby and dropped to her knees by Cordelia, taking Cordelia's hands in both of hers. "I'm so sorry."

"Ah." Cordelia blinked, and sniffled again. "I must look like a wreck. Been a long day and I just had a shock."

"Damn," Gunn said, scowling and looking away uncomfortably. "I liked Harris."

"Huh?" Cordelia's head snapped around to him. She looked back at Fred, her mouth dropping open and her eyes going wide. "_Oh_, no no _no_... " she said. "Xander's ok – he's going to be fine, the jerk."

"Ah... " Gunn said, looking back at her, the scowl melting away to be replaced with a confused look.

"Oh." Fred rocked back on her heels. "That's... good. No! That's _great_! We just saw you sitting here with – " she made a gesture, "and thought... "

"Oh, no," Cordelia looked blankly around for her purse. Gunn handed her his handkerchief and she took it gratefully, dabbing at her eyes. "_Different_ shock. Sorry."

"Nuthin' to be sorry about, Barbie," Gunn said. He squatted on his heels on the other side of Cordelia's seat.

"Brought some coffee from that place we passed," Fred said, smiling. "And some of the colaches from that place in L.A. you like, on our way out."

"Oh. Thanks. Was on my way for coffee and snacks when... " Cordelia made a vague gesture, realized she was still holding Xander's phone, and shoved it into a pocket on her jacket. Anya's jacket. Anya had brought her a jacket when she came back, she remembered now...

"'k, so... " Gunn raised his eyebrows.

"Phone call. Good news. Bad news. Something news... " Cordelia drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Uh. Ever had your universe turn inside out on you?"

"Yeah," Gunn drawled. Fred nodded beside him.

"Oh. Yeah, of course you have," Cordelia smiled, finding it didn't hurt. "Uh... Angel?"

"Slipped in to visit the Buffy," Gunn said. "Lorne went with him."

"Oh. She won't be awake yet, probably."

"Won't stop him," Gunn said.

"No. Wouldn't me, either," Cordelia said, her smile broadening a bit. "So, uh, you guys have a place to stay yet? Not really room at Xander's – ours – but Buffy maybe... "

"Uh huh," Fred nodded. "Angel's old place."

"The mansion on Crawford? But it's probably... " Cordelia ran out of words for what it was probably, after three years of vacancy and neglect.

"Hey. Fang says it has running water and 'lectricity," Gunn said. "We'll make do."

"Yeah," Fred said. "Won't be here too long. We have a case."

"So. Angel was real weird when he got off the phone with you," Gunn said. "Said you shot some guy?"

"Yeah. Warren Mears," Cordelia said, nodding. "He was trying to shoot Buffy, hit Xander too. He _w__ould_ have shot Tara dead, too, but I stopped him."

"Would have?" Gunn raised his eyebrows. "Vision?"

"Yeah. And so don't _even_ mention the visions or those damned... _Powers_," Cordelia said, almost spitting the word Powers. Gunn leaned back, raising his hands palm out.

"Whoa. No probs."

"Sorry," Cordelia said. "Yeah. Almost last very fucking second vision. _Barely_ made it outside before it was all over. Shot Warren just as Buffy was hitting her knees and he was about to empty the magazine into them."

"Ouch," Fred said, wincing.

"Yeah, ouch," Angel's voice said as he and Lorne came up.

Cordelia's gaze went to them. "Hey," she said, "I was just telling Fred and Gunn... "

"We heard," Angel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Xander... ?"

"Is going to be fine. Shot in the arm and they had to remove bone splinters that flew into his chest, but he'll be good."

"Oh, cupcake," Lorne said. "Even so, that's just got to be hard."

"Yeah," Cordelia said, nodding. "Buffy?"

"She's ok," Angel said. "Well, stable, anyway. And her chart says she'll be fine. But... " he spread his hands, looking helpless, "She looks so _tiny_ lying there with all those tubes. Fragile... "

"Yeah. Really not a very big girl," Cordelia said. "But she'll be fine too, doctors said."

"Are you ok?" Angel asked, looking at her intently.

"No. But I will be."

Angel smiled slightly, looking relieved. Boy, did she ever have a shock or two for him...

"Buffy called," Angel said. "Guess... not long after you guys left her place, the uh, other day?"

"Yesterday. I think," Cordelia said, frowning slightly. "I think."

"Yeah. Chewed me out up one side and down the other for not calling and telling her about Connor. And Darla. And your visions problems," he said, shaking his head and scowling.

"Serves you right," Cordelia said. She snickered, finding it funny despite everything else.

"So. Phone call, yours? Shock?" Fred asked, her eyes searching Cordelia's face. "But it's ok if you don't want to – "

"Nah. It's fine," Cordelia said. She took one of the coffees from the tray and opened it, sipping. Mocha latte. Good. She took a deep breath. "Giles was on the phone. Doyle didn't pass me the visions."

"Uh." Angel looked pole axed, standing there blinking. "But... "

"I'm a seer, Angel. A _human_ seer. According to what Giles found in the Council archives, Seers are _born_, not made," Cordelia said. The Powers did something and awakened me, oh, about two to three years earlier than I would have naturally."

"Uh." Angel still looked pole axed. So did Gunn and Fred. "But the pain? And the damage? And what Wesley and Skip said... ?"

"Apparently, being forcibly awakened isn't all that good for you," Cordelia said, dryly. "And I damn near walked down to L.A. to _strangle_ Wesley after I hung up. If it hadn't been for all this... " she took a deep breath, "And don't _even_ get me started on _Skip_."

"Well, crap," Gunn said.

"Exactly."

"Hrmm." Lorne said, his gaze distant. Cordelia looked at him sharply, and he met her eyes carefully, his own full of pain and sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Honeybunch. But if the Powers were manipulating your destiny directly, then that explains why I never got anything directly pertinent whenever you sang for me."

"Manipulating. That's a _really_ good word," Cordelia said, nodding. She took a deep drink of her mocha. "I've been sitting here running the past, oh, six years through my mind wondering just how long those... _bastards_ have been playing with me. _Us_."

"So Harris was right," Angel looked more than faintly croggled by the concept, even as the words were coming out of his mouth. "We really should have looked harder."

"I have lots of other good words," Fred drawled, her Texas accent going deeper, "But I don't think y'all want to hear them." Gunn nodded, his eyes gone hard and flat.

"Join the club, sugar-cakes," Lorne said.

"It's an exclusive membership right now, but growing fast," Cordelia said. "Giles is pissed off, too."

"So, we should have..." Angel trailed off, not finishing. His eyes suddenly were looking anywhere but at Cordelia.

"We should have. We didn't. I didn't. It is _not_ your fault, Angel," the edge to Cordelia's voice brought his eyes around to meet hers, and after a moment, he smiled faintly.

"Your husband seems to think it is," Angel said.

"My husband's mouth runs ahead of his common sense a lot of times," Cordelia said, smiling lopsidedly, "Especially when he's scared and pissed off. Like with Buffy and Willow last night... "

Everyone looked at her sharply, and Cordelia flushed. She hadn't meant to blurt that out. Maybe Xander wasn't the only one without a brain to mouth filter when he was pissed off.

'_Gee, you think?_' Still Small Voice said, snickering.

Oh, shut up.

She sighed. Screw it. "That's why they were in the backyard when Warren came up looking for revenge. Xander was out there apologizing for some things he popped off with after we came back to Revello and found out that Spike tried to rape Buffy and almost succeeded. And that Buffy didn't want to stake him for it."

Fred and Gun sucked in their breaths.

Cordelia's lips curled up at the corners, humorlessly. "Yeah. Think that when he unloaded on Angel was nasty? Should have seen _this_."

Angel went very still, in that way that only a vampire can do. No breath, no involuntary movements.

"I'm going to kill him," he said, very calmly and quietly and simply.

"We almost did," Cordelia said, nodding. "But he split for Africa one jump ahead of the posse, Marshall. Clem said he was ranting and muttering something about... " she searched her memory. Things were a bit blurry after all the time that'd passed since last night.

Yeah. All twenty four hours, maybe. Felt like a century.

"There's supposed to be a wishing demon in Africa somewhere," Lorne said. "There's trials, and if you survive them, he grants your deepest desires." Lorne shrugged, "Or so legend and rumor go."

"Ah. Clem said he was muttering something about 'getting that bitch what she deserves'," Cordelia said, nodding. "Spike's long gone now, I guess."

"May not be able to go after him right away," Angel said, softly, "But at some point this summer, he's going to die. And it'll be my hand on the stake."

"Long past time, if you ask me," Cordelia said. She dismissed Spike from her mind. "Buffy stopped him, anyway. And Spike is suddenly low on my priority list."

"Is there anything I can do, cupcake?" Lorne was still looking at her with that sad, utterly gentle expression.

"Don't know," Cordelia said, shrugging. She took another draught of coffee, thinking. "You've always said your anagogic abilities come from the Powers?"

"From the Fates, honey-cakes. The Norns, the Moroai, the Weirds, Maidens of Mögþrasir – " Lorne said. "The weavers of the skeins of Destiny. I'd always assumed that the Powers had something to do with them."

"Seems we're finding that assumptions ain't always a good thing," Gunn drawled."Seems that 'makin' an ass 'o you an' me' thing my Gram always quoted might have some reality."

Cordelia nodded. "Might want to get that looked at, Lorne."

Lorne nodded, looking uncomfortable.

Cordelia drained her coffee and set the empty cup back in the tray. She stood, smoothing her hands on the thighs of her jeans. She felt oddly calm and oddly disconnected.

_'Only so many jolts you can take,'_ Still Small said. _'You're in shock.'_ Cordelia nodded absently. Didn't seem to matter.

"I need to make a trip to the Ladies. I'm a mess," she said.

"I'll go with," Fred said, standing along with her. Gunn uncoiled up off the floor also, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

Cordelia nodded. "When I get back, I need to take some of this coffee and colaches to Xander's room for Anya. And I need to do a lot of thinking tonight while I sit and watch my husband sleep and recover."

Angel nodded. "We'll be around. No problem.".

She looked at Angel. "Angel. Don't get too attached to being the Power's Champion. When I'm done with them..." she shrugged, "That may no longer be an available option."

Angel shrugged. "I'm a little bit annoyed with them myself."

* * *

.


	23. I'm Not the World's Most Physical Guy -

**Chapter Twenty: Well, I'm Not the World's Most Physical Guy (But When She Squeezed Me Tight... )**

* * *

"_Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads which sew people together through the years."_ ― Simone Signoret

* * *

She stirred, finally, feeling as if she were swimming up from murky depths and it was a long way to the surface.

God, she hated that feeling.

She knew she was in the hospital before she was even opening her eyes to look. There was what felt like a tube in her nose and in her arms and her mouth felt like steel wool dipped in ashes. Ack. She was surprised there wasn't a tube down her throat.

The mental fog drifted away, slowly. She remembered Warren Mears and Xander doing his level best to twist and pull her around behind him. Someone punching her in the shoulder and stomach. And something fuzzy about Cordelia, with a gun? And falling...

And blackness at the edges of her vision.

She blinked, opened her eyes all the way, and Angel was there.

Wow. Not _an_ angel. _The_ Angel. Standing there looking down at her with his hands clasped behind his back, in that endless stillness vampires can get when they forget to breathe and twitch and move like normal people.

"wow." Buffy said. Her voice came out really tiny and kinda hoarse.

Angel jerked like he'd been shot. Ouch. Bad analogy.

"Hey," he breathed. "You're awake."

"Duh." Buffy essayed a smile, managed it kinda. Ooh. Progress.

Angel nodded, looking suddenly like his entire world just lit up or he got a pony on Christmas morning or something. "I'll get the nurse."

"No," she croaked. He looked at her, stopping. "They'll chase you away. In a minnit."

"Ah." Angel nodded, settling against the bed railing and taking her hand between his cool ones.

"Wha happen... ?" her eyes searched his.

"You got shot."

"Duh. Know that," Buffy said, moving her chin very slightly in what might be a nod tomorrow or next week maybe. "Jerk. I mean... "

"Oh." Angel smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. He'd done that on purpose. Idiot. He said, "I was told that Warren Mears shot you. Shot Xander. Cordelia killed him before he could shoot you some more and kill everyone else."

"Wow. Xander?"

"Hit in the arm. He'll be fine. Cordelia's with him."

"Hate hospitals. How long?"

"It's about four AM on the same day. Night, next morning, whatever. You've been out for thirteen hours."

"Bad number," Buffy said.

"Hey, I'll always treasure it now."

Buffy smiled. "Sap. Why are you... ?"

"Cordelia called me. Us," Angel said.

"Oh. Good." Buffy did the very tiny nod thing again, said, "She brought prezzies. I like her."

"I'm kinda fond of her myself," Angel smiled down at her.

"So sleepy. And I hurt," Buffy said, her croaky voice sounding all tiny again.

"You were in bad shape. They had you in surgery for hours," Angel said. "I'll go get the nurses."

"Ok." Buffy closed her eyes again. "Do that thing... "

* * *

"Ok. Hrrm. This should be s- simple," Tara said. "Reasonably. But we need more room – I can't do it here."

"I'll be out soon," Xander said.

"You are _not_ getting up and walking out AMA, Doofus," Cordelia warned.

Xander's mouth and jaw set in a stubborn line she knew all too well. "I'll be ok soon. I heal fast."

"I'm warning you," she threatened. Jeeze. Morning after the night before, and they were back to normal again. Arguing.

"Cordy." He looked at her, and her breath caught. "_Time_. Sand's running out. I can feel it, don't ask me how."

Cordelia's jaw set in an equally stubborn line and she glared at him. "You are _going_ to wait at least a day or two until they say you can go without killing yourself, even if they're not ready to let you."

He glared back. "I'll leave when _I'm_ sure I'm ok and ready, Mrs. Chase-Harris." He was peripherally aware of Tara's eyes going back and forth between them like a spectator at a ping pong game.

"You listen here, Mr. Harris-Chase," Cordelia said, quietly and fiercely, "You had your _chest _sliced into. You are _not_ going to take a stupid risk and end up bleeding out somewhere."

"Ok." He nodded.

"And _further_ more– huh?" She blinked at him, her mouth partly open.

"I said, 'Ok'." Xander's lips quirked up at the corners. "Should I use smaller words?"

"Ok? Just like that?" Cordelia's eyes flashed at him. "Oooh... " She folded her arms across her chest and tossed her hair at him. "I'm not talking to you anymore."

Tara giggled, and Cordelia turned the infamous molten glare on her. Xander winked at her, and Tara giggled again.

"Oh, bite me, Xander," Cordelia's lips started twitching at the corners. "That's just not fair and you know it."

"Yeah. All dressed up and no one to argue with," Xander's lips quirked up farther to match hers.

"Went in for an argument and found you w- were in the getting hit in the h- head room," Tara agreed, solemnly.

They both stared at her until a slow flush crept up Tara's neck to her face. "What?" she said.

Almost in unison, they both said, "Now bring us a shrubbery," and dissolved into giggles.

"I'm shocked, Tara," Xander said, finally. "Willow _hates_ Monty Python. She's been dating a heretic all this time."

"I know," Tara snickered. "I've been keeping my perversion carefully hidden."

"Well, you're out of the closet now, thankfully," Cordelia said.

"It's the humor that dare not speak its name," Xander intoned, and Tara started giggling again.

"Anywho," Cordelia said, finally getting the snickering fit down to a dull giggle. "So, you don't think this, uh, reintegrating thing will be hard to do?"

"No. Simple," Tara said. "Not easy, but simple. An- and I'm pretty good with aura magics."

"Cool. You have any idea what the problem is?" Xander asked.

"Well," Tara said, her eyes going slightly unfocused, "You have, l- like I said, two extra auras. At least. But real faint. And they're your aura. Or at least one of them is. The other's a bit weird... "

"Maybe a leftover from when Toth's thingy split me in two?"

"Maybe... " Tara sounded dubious.

"Or, more likely," Cordelia said, "Leftovers from having 'Possess me, I'm yours' tattooed on your forehead."

Xander snorted, but nodded and said, "On the Hellmouth, that's damn near Occam's Razor."

"Brrr." Cordelia said. "You've told me enough about the hyena thing that that frankly scares the crap out of me."

"You're my mate," Xander said. "Alpha female. Not an issue – hyena boy wouldn't ever do anything to harm you."

"Mate, huh," Cordelia's lip curled, but her eyes danced at him. "Me Shanna the She-devil. You Tarzan."

Tara snickered, and said, "Maybe yes, maybe no. Too many possibilities. But doing it is easy. Just a matter of re-aligning your Chakra points and a spell to integrate your psyche."

"Hrmm." Cordelia frowned. "Ok, now I'm confused. I thought mind magic was bad?"

"I- it is. When you use it to coerce or mind control or invade a mind," Tara said, nodding. "But this is benign. It's... allowing or enabling the mind to do what it's supposed to do, not forcing it to do something against its will."

Cordelia still looked doubtful, and Tara leaned forward slightly, adding, "Ok. Like the Dresden Files, 'k? If you've read those... ?"

Both Xander and Cordelia nodded, glanced sidelong at each other and grinned.

Tara continued. "Ok, so mind magic is black magic because it's invasive, right? It damages the mind _and_ the spirit that you're forcing to do something, l-like a love spell, or mind wipe, or coercion. J-jedi mind trick. And it's black because the _intent_ is black. Moreally or ethically wrong. Y-you _intend_ to dominate the other person's thoughts or actions regardless of their wants or desires or integrity."

"Like rape," Cordelia said.

"Right." Tara nodded. She said, "And that's why it makes me so mad that I could s-st-strangle Willow, because she can't or won't _understand_ that that says something about the _intent_ of the person who uses it. And it damages and warps them, because you have to have an _intent_ of bending the other person to your will. R-regardless of theirs. The more the act is against their nature, the more the warping." She huffed, "Willow looks at magic like a c-computer program or a recipe. Do this, enter this, get this result."

"And it's not," Xander said. "Not because of some 'Magic always has consequences' Spike bullshit."

"N-no. It's because it's shaped by the intent and the intentions and the imagination and the will, not just the steps. Magic answers what you _want_, not just what you tell it. _Including_ what you want deep down inside, and subconsciously. The steps and words and squiggles are just a focus. They're there to protect the caster. And magic here is tainted by the Hellmouth, too. It twists intents."

"Huh. So, lucky there's no White Council here, or Willow and Amy and Xander would be toast," Cordelia said.

"Yup," Xander said, exchanging bleak looks with her.. "Off with the head. Eww."

"Yeah. B-but even there," Tara said, "Some are ok. Like sleep spells and mental protections. This is benign. Its _intent_ is to release whatever is constraining the mind and aura and keeping them from integrating naturally."

"What if that 'keeping from' is a good thing?" Cordelia asked.

"I-it can't be," Tara said. "Not healthy. It'll just get worse and worse if it's let go." Xander looked faintly ill at that.

"So... ?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

"So, I need a space big enough for a circle-slash-pentacle, and three protection circles inside. One for Xander and the chakra stones, reclining, one for me, and one for you," she said, looking at Cordelia.

"Me?" Cordelia looked startled.

"You're his mate now, really, truly," Tara said, nodding, "In name and in blood." She looked pointedly at the wedding rings. "You're bound together now: you're his anchor. And m-mine."

"She has the heart of a doofus," Xander said, quirking a grin.

"And I'll take it home in a jar if you're not careful," Cordelia said, snorting.

* * *

A day, a night, and another day. Xander was on the mend and rallying fast, just as he'd said he would be. Well, she reflected, he had always healed a bit quick on the few times they'd gotten injured in high school. Much faster than she had from that re-bar in the gut, Cordelia thought, sourly. He'd been out of his broken arm cast in about three weeks at the beginning of Buffy going all girl interrupted following Acathla.

Buffy was rallying fast, also. Then again, Slayer healing. Duh. She was already up and around and getting ready to leave AMA whether the doctors wanted to let her or not. Moving a little gingerly, yeah, but looking awfully good for someone with two hollow point rounds through her.

Cordelia wondered how much she'd had to do with that, if anything. That whole glowing and energy rushing through into Buffy business was kinda neat, if more than a bit scary.

Neat, because it'd never occurred to her that her demon powers might could heal. Scary, because hey: demon powers. And, also hey: passing out, never a good sign.

She'd gone yesterday afternoon and hit the Sunnydale Police Station and gotten Xander's weapons and stuff from his truck back, with Gunn's help in carrying stuff. And her carry permit. Made a report to Stein. Day late and a dollar short for reports, if you asked her.

Didn't get back her .357 Model 19, dammit, not yet. But she had one of Xander's handguns from his gun safe in the hidden holster pocket in her purse now, at least. Something called a 'Kimber Stainless Target II' with 10mm Auto stamped on it, that looked like a .45 auto to her, but what did she know? The 10mm ammo she found fit it, and it fit her hand and her purse's holster pocket, and that's what counted.

She'd be damned if she was going to go around unarmed, not after the other day.

If it freaked out Willow? So be it.

She needed a trip to the range, no doubt. It was probably sighted for Xander (duh) and she had no idea how or where it shot. Later. Fit it in somewhere...

Cordelia had been a bit worried about Jonathan, staying at their Sunnydale apartment alone all the time, but he'd assured her that he had books and the internet and food, and he was fine.

When Xander had finally argued and cajoled her into agreeing to go home and eat and get a shower and sleep there, rather than curled up in a chair by his bedside, she and Jonathan had had a long talk. And they were due several more, as far as she was concerned.

Cordelia was _still_ pissed off at the little twerp.

Kids Cordelia _Chase_ grew up with didn't get involved with magical mind control and attempted rape contemplation (because what _else_ was mind controlling Warren's girlfriend into being a sex slave?) and accidental homicide. They just _didn't_.

If Jonathan had been a vamp, she'd just stake him. But he was human, and at least _kind_ of a childhood friend, if you squinted at things hard enough from the side – or at least a long term childhood acquaintance – and she just couldn't.

Andrew Wells she didn't give a rat's ass about. _He'd_ been into things willingly, she was gathering. _V__ery_ willingly. With an almost homoerotic kind of hero worship fixation on Warren.

Scratch the almost. Fuck him. Not literally, of course. Eww.

But Jonathan... Cordelia no longer had enough living childhood friends and acquaintances that she wanted to throw any of them away.

She just didn't know what the hell to _do_ with him. She was thinking maybe a long talk with Detective Stein and her and Xander might be in order, later. She could always keep strangling the little idiot as a reserve option.

Xander was sleeping, and Cordelia was once again curled up in the chair by his bedside, reading a magazine, when from Xander's doorway there came a rapping. She looked up, startled. She wasn't expecting Tara or Dawn or anyone else until later that afternoon...

"Hello? Come in," she called. Public room. Not much point in worrying about invitations. Besides, daylight.

"Knock knock. Is this where the Sunnydale Justice League is headquartered?" A very familiar – and _totally_ unexpected – face stuck itself around the door and grinned at her like an idiot.

"David? David!" Cordelia dropped her magazine and practically jumped out of the chair. "Get _in_ here, Doofus."

Xander had been awakened by that, and was raising his bed to a sitting position, blinking sleepily. "Huh wha? I thought I was your only doofus, dear."

"You wish," Cordelia said, dragging the short, geeky billionaire over to Xander's bed by one hand. "Xander? Meet David Nabbitt. David? My idiot husband, Xander."

"Hi." David waved. "Wha huh? Husband?"

Xander grinned up at him. "Yeah. Got her drunk and dragged her off to my lair and had my way with her."

"You so did not," she said. Turning to David, she added, "Well, except for the part where he did that thing. But there was mutual way having, unfortunately."

"That's not what you screamed the next morning, dear," Xander said, smirking.

David was looking between the two of them like a spectator at a tennis match, wearing an increasingly bemused expression. Funny – they seemed to be getting a lot of that, these days.

David blinked and said, "Ok... I'm thinking I forgot to get a program when I walked into this theater."

"Ok. Me hubby," Xander said, grinning. He pointed at Cordelia, "Her wifey."

"I got that part, thanks," David grinned back at him.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Cordelia demanded.

"Ah." David handed her the stuff he had in his other hand. "Balloons. And a box of raisins. The gift shop didn't have any grapes, sorry."

"I'll put them in some water later," Cordelia said, laying them aside on a table and tying the balloons to a chair arm. "_Still_ doesn't answer my question, schmuck."

"She's bossy," Xander observed.

"I know," David nodded. Oh gods, they were bonding. Geeks.

"I _so_ am _not_," Cordelia said. "And spill."

"Ok, so, I'm getting my morning news briefs from my P.A. right?" David said, cheerfully. "And, lo and behold, one of them is a third page item about a robbery being foiled by a bunch of what the guards kept describing as 'real life superheroes' in some town called Sunnydale."

"Wait, we only made the third page of the Sunnydale Herald?" Cordelia said, blinking.

"Sunnydale, dear," Xander said. "Lucky it made the paper at all."

"So... one of them described some woman in a skimpy red outfit blasting a killer robot with a bolt of lightning. Monsters not involved," David said, continuing. "And next day's Herald late edition had a front page story about the same woman foiling a murder by shooting some guy," he shrugged and spread his hands, "And when I found the same girl in _both_ stories was Cordelia Chase, along with some other superheroes named Xander and Buffy, I had to wrap things up and grabbed my jet down here."

"Cool." Xander grinned at him. "Buffy will freak. _Willow_ will freak."

"Already met her. She was busy haranguing some doctor type into letting her go home," David said. "Huh. I think I remember a Willow. Sunnydale High Career Day, 1997 or '98?" Xander nodded.

Cordelia blinked. "I don't have a skimpy red superhero outfit," she said, lamely.

"Oh, I dunno," Xander said. "That halter bandana thingy was kinda on the skimpy side."

"Oh."

"Wow. Not often I leave Cordelia speechless."

"I'm just, wow," she shook her head. "I don't think we've ever made the Sunnydale Herald for anything here. Not by name."

"Well, a comic book superhero brawl between cute girls and killer robots _is_ a bit different than giant snake monsters and big blue Smurf demons," Xander said.

"They were treating it as silly season stuff," David said. "Me, I knew better."

"Ok, so, you're here because... " Cordelia said, still a little boggled.

"Oh. I'm told I own something like sixty three percent of Tropical Adventures amusement park," David said. "I thought I said that."

"You do? And no, you didn't."

"Oh. Well," he said, "I was going to come down and personally thank the heroes who saved one of my companies a lot of money. And get a chance to see you again," David said, "Now, I'm thinking I need to run out and buy wedding presents so I won't feel like any more of a complete social incompetent than I normally do."

"Ah. No one else got us gifts either," Xander said, waving it off. "You don't have to do – "

"Oh, yes he does," Cordelia snapped. She ran that back through her mind again, and started turning red. "Uh, I mean... "

David started laughing. "So, do I know our Cordy or what?"

"Oh, shut up."

"I'd bow to your superior wisdom, but I'm stuck down here for the moment," Xander said, smirking.

"Sigh. Betrayed by my greedy nature and grasping upbringing," Cordelia said, smirking back at them.

"So. Lightning bolts?"

"It's a thing. Long story."

"She got made half demon."

"Ok, so maybe not so long." They stuck their tongues out at each other.

Grinning at them, David said, "Ok. So I'm thinking I didn't expect to see you married, Cordy."

"That one really _is_ kind of a long story," Cordelia said. "But, the Reader's Digest is: childhood friends, childhood enemies, long term frenemies, high school boy friend, hated ex, unexpected reunion, and _lots_ of alcohol."

"And wild hot monkey loving."

"Oh, shut up about that."

"So, basically," Xander said, "We ended up at the Elvis Presley Chapel of Love in Las Vegas, drunk, woke up married, fought to a bitter draw – "

"Had more wild hot steamy monkey loving – "

"– You told me to shut up about that."

"Woman's prerogative. Bite me."

"And," Xander said, continuing, "I finally wore her down and got her to decide against her better judgment to keep me."

"My better judgment fought to the bitter end," Cordelia said, nodding.

"It was three falls out of five, but I won in the sudden death cage match," Xander said. He and Cordelia exchanged grins again.

"I'm holding out sleeping with the referee as an option," Cordelia said, "In case I change my mind."

"I'd say that's how I met my last ex wife, but I've never been married," David said, laughing. "Wow. And congratulations." He looked at them both. "Cool. And you're both super heroes now. Even cooler."

"Well, that's a thing too," Cordelia said.

"Details, details," David said, waving it off. "What's important here is getting your releases for the comic book and graphic novel series." Xander grinned at him, and David said, "So. What can I do to reward you two? Anything?"

"Hrmm." Xander looked at him carefully, raising an eyebrow. "Pull up a rock and sit. I have an idea involving Angel and that hotel of his that my Cordy thinks you might be interested in. And a diabolical scheme."

David pulled over a chair, looking intrigued. "I thought only the super-villains had diabolical schemes."

"Think Nineties darker and grimmer super-heroes, and you'll hit the groove... "

* * *

"Ow!" Angel jumped, then limped around in a tight circle, holding his shin. Ok, hopped around in a tight circle. He glared at Dawn. "You kicked me! Right in the shin!"

"Want to try for two?" Dawn folded her arms over her chest, and tossed her hair at him.

"No!" Angel put his leg down, experimentally. It apparently held his weight. "_Why_ did you kick me?"

Dawn rolled her eyes, tossed her hair again. "Gee, I dunno, Angel." She smirked, then started counting off on her fingers. "Lessee," she said, "You didn't call us about Cordy's wedding. Or her vision issues. You didn't call Buffy about your son, and about Darla. She had to hear it from Cordy, finally. We only ever see you when there's an emergency or someone is _dead_, jerk. And you're a jerk and your hair sticks straight up. Oh, and finally," she ticked off one last finger, "Uh. I don't really have a finally. But you're a guy. I'm sure you've done something else to deserve it."

Angel glared around at the others, found he wasn't getting any sympathy and looked back at Dawn.

"He's male," Cordelia said, "I know he has."

Angel sighed, rolling his eyes. "You could be right."

Dawn snorted and glared at him one last time, then took a long step forward and threw her arms around his waist. She enveloped him in a tight hug, and after a moment, his arms crept around her hesitantly and he hugged her back.

"And I'm really glad you're here, finally." She squeezed him tightly, smiling. "Jerk."

Xander grinned at them, and caught Buffy's eyes to see her grinning also. Everyone else was hiding grins or swallowing smirks. Cordelia winked at him. Good to see someone _else_ getting belted by all the women around them for a change.

Dawn let go finally and stepped back, and Buffy glomped onto him. She must've given him one of her patented rib breakers, because Xander could hear creaking noises.

Least Angel didn't need air for anything. His eyes did bug out a bit, though.

"Yeah." Buffy let go, stepped back, and kicked him in the other shin. "What she said."

"Ow!"

Gunn started snickering, and Angel glared at him.

"Ok, so, is this a Council of War?" Cordelia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope." Buffy shook her head. "This is a family gathering. With a little Scooby meeting and a little strategery-izing mixed in."

She turned to Lorne, who was standing a bit to the back and one side of the rest of the Angel crew. "We met at the hospital, kinda. Do you need anything special, like in the refreshment sense or anything?"

"Oh, no, sugarplum. Unless you have a Sea-breeze handy?" Buffy shook her head, and he said, "Then, no. I drink coffee, cola, tea, or iced tea just like regular folks."

"'K," Buffy grinned at him. "Welcome to Casa Summers, then."

They adjourned to the dining room, and Xander noticed that Tara or someone had put the holiday leaves into the dining room table. Plenty of room. He pulled out a chair for Cordy, getting a startled look followed by a wide grin, then slid into a chair between her and Lorne.

"Gotta admit, I'm kinda surprised. You're certainly taking Lorne in stride, Buffy," Cordelia said. She helped herself to some coffee.

"Oh, please," Buffy waved it off, shooting Lorne a grin. "You _have_ met Clem, right?"

"Yeah," Dawn said, leaning over to fill a glass with iced tea for Lorne. "And Lorne's cute. Uh, not that Clem isn't but... " she started turning red, backing away.

"And you're just cute as a bug too, sweetie," Lorne said, winking at her. "But that's probably as far as this conversation goes for a few more years, or big sis will probably make a belt out of me."

"And a matching hat band. And luggage, yep," Buffy nodded, smiling.

"And thank you for inviting me also, Buffy," Anya said. She pulled out a chair across the table next to Angel, on the other side of him from Buffy.

"Pshaw. You're family too, Anya," Buffy said, seriously. "Kinda forgot that the past few months, but I've been a mess."

"It's okay," Anya said. "Just that not many people would invite the ex-fiancée to sit with the new wife person."

"I thought you and Anya worked things out at the hospital, Cordy?" Tara asked as she handed Xander a Hobgoblin from the tray balanced on her other hand. She moved around the table offering Angel a choice between a Killian's Red and a Guinness.

"We did. Anya's just doing the literal thing," Cordelia said.

"Yes," Anya said, agreeing. "New wife person, ex-fiancé ," she pointed to Angel, and then Lorne, "Ex-vampire lover, current demon."

Cordelia winked at her, raising her coffee cup in a sardonic salute.

"Oh!" Anya said, adding, "And thank you for introducing me to David Nabbitt at the hospital, Cordelia. I liked him. Even if he did seem awfully befuddled around me."

"Uh, you're welcome," Cordelia said. Angel looked askance at her. She shrugged, and then made a show of looking around the room, suddenly curious. "Speaking of ex-lovers and ex-boyfriends, what did you guys do with Groo?"

"Yeah," Xander said, giving Angel a curious look as well. "Wasn't he at the hotel right before we left for Sunnydale?"

"Ah," Angel shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Spill, Detective Boy," Cordelia said, "I kept forgetting to ask in all the turmoil, but now that I am asking... ?" She arched her eyebrows at him, Xander matching her curious expression.

Gunn rolled his eyes, "Oh for... Groo offered to stay in L.A. and look into the case while we came up here."

"Hey!" Cordelia's expression began to take on a distinctly alarmed looking tinge. "You left _Groo_ in Los Angeles dealing with _clients_? _Our_ clients?"

Buffy and the Sunnydalers watched them with increasingly curious expressions.

"Hey!" Angel spread his hands, looking sheepish. "It was, er, is, a pretty simple and straightforward case and he swore he could handle it. And hey – he really does do pretty good with people. Kind of formal, but they seemed to like that."

"_Groo?_" Cordelia's expression became increasingly skeptical.

"He was really, really earnest about it... " Angel said, shifting uncomfortably and trailing off under her gaze.

"He gave you the puppy-dog eyes," Xander said knowingly. Buffy giggled and covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes dancing.

"He did not!" Angel said, glaring at him.

"It's okay, Angel," Xander said smugly, his eyes starting to dance. "No one can resist the power of puppy eyes. Not even vampires."

"I can too!" Angel said, glaring back at the much younger man. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and grumbling, "I mean, I– "

"Jeeze, Dork, now you've embarrassed him," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. "He'll sulk all night now."

"I will _not_," Angel said. Xander had the distinct impression Angel would be flushing bright red about now if he was capable of it.

"Puppy eyes," Xander said smugly, winking at Cordelia. She swatted him, huffing. A slight grin of her own started to play at the edges of her lips.

"Ok. There's rice crispy treats, something called Rugelach that Tara made, and some taco treat thingies that Fred made," Buffy said, taking pity on Angel and interrupting the work argument. "And blood in the fridge for Angel if he gets peckish, as Giles would say."

"Better than snappish," Xander slid in. Cordelia glared sidelong at him, started to elbow him in the side and stopped, evidently thinking better about it. He smirked at her. Injury had its advantages.

"I wouldn't milk your immunity _too_ much, Harris," Angel said, catching the byplay. "You'll be whole and hale again soon, and she'll save them up." He winced, miming rubbing at his ribs. "Trust me."

Cordelia huffed. "I so will not."

"Got your number, Cordy," Buffy smirked. "So. I'm figuring we all met at the hospital over the past few days, so just dig in if you want and help yourself to anything if you need refills or whatever. I hereby declare everyone here part of Clan Buffy, and clan members don't get the guest treatment."

"Darn. And I was just starting to enjoy it," Gunn said.

"Suck it in and deal, Gunn," Buffy said, laughing. He grinned back at her, tipping his beer to her. She looked at Xander, eying him dubiously. "Are you sure you're ready to be out of the hospital, Xan?"

"I left AMA and the docs weren't happy, but they grudgingly said I seem to be healed enough," Xander said, shrugging. "Even if they can't explain it after only three days." He had his arm in a sling, and still bandaged, as well as bandages on his chest over the tiny incision where they'd gone in after the bone splinters, but he looked good enough he thought. Felt good enough, also.

"Xander heals fast for a human," Anya said. "Remember when Olaf hit him with the troll hammer and his broken arm was out of the cast so quickly?"

"Always has," Cordelia said. "He got out of the cast in a couple of weeks when he had his arm broken at the beginning of the, uh, Nighthawk summer, too."

"Ok, so, where is Willow?" Anya asked. "And that Jonathan?"

"Will is running late," Tara said. "Lectures running over, I think," she looked and sounded slightly dubious.

"And Jonathan is running errands and staying out of it for now," Cordelia said.

"Yeah. Jonno's not a part of the clan yet," Buffy said, nodding. "He's got status issues."

"To say the least," Angel remarked. "Why are you guys keeping him, again?" He looked to Xander and Cordy.

"Well, he did give himself up and turn helpful," Xander said. "And that thing at the Bronze would have gotten real ugly – uglier – if he hadn't tipped me off to the Orbs thing."

"And all the crap he did aside," Cordelia said, then frowned, "Or even considered, he's one of us. Like Amy. Xander and Willow and I've known him since third grade."

Angel and Tara both raised their eyebrows at her, and Cordelia shrugged. "Look, I'm not any crazier about any of the stuff he did and got mixed up in with those two idiots and creepazoids than you guys are. Especially that mind control thing and the murder," she said. "But... I've lost enough childhood friends over the years in this hellhole of an abortion of a town. I don't want to lose any more if he's even remotely salvageable."

"Think he is?" Gunn looked at them, raising an eyebrow with a dubious expression.

"Hrmm." Xander shrugged, looking thoughtful. He exchanged glances with Cordelia, then shrugged again. "I think so. My hot tempered and extremely slow to forgive wife here thinks so," he said. Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him. "And I trust her instincts."

"Yeah, well, lucky for you, I _do_ forgive eventually."

"I'm staying away from that," Angel said. "I suspect I'm responsible for your losing some of those."

"No," Xander said, and everyone looked at him in surprise. Especially Angel. "Angel, I don't like you. Maybe never will. But you're an idiot. You weren't _there_ for the things Angelus did."

"I'm really surprised to hear you say that, Xander," Angel said, slowly.

"I grew up. 'Bout time one of us did. Hey, you want to apologize and wallow in guilt for all the times you could have and _didn't_ step in and intervene, like with Darla and Jesse, or for being a putz and playing cryptic guy the first year and a half instead of helping out, or for knocking me out on the street and leaving me unconscious, or for..." Xander spread his hands, "I'm sure you get it. Then, hey – have at." He shrugged, "But for what your Evil Undead Twin did? Like Teresa and Jenny Calendar and Acathla and whatever? Naw."

Xander leaned forward, speaking slowly and clearly, "You. Weren't. There. For. That crap. Quit being more of a putz than you already are."

Angel stared at him. So did Buffy, Buffy a lot more incredulously. Angel nodded finally, slowly. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Besides," Xander said, smirking. "I sent you to Hell for a hundred years when I lied to Buffy about the soul spell. I figure we're even now."

The room did that deathly silent thing again. Leaves hitting the ground outside and down the block could be heard clearly. Everyone stared at him, except Cordelia, who was staring at Angel. Well, Cordy already knew. He'd told her about it that long, long summer, way back when. And Anya, for the same reason, later on.

After a time, everyone switched to staring at Angel, and then Buffy, who just rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Like I never figured that out?" She snorted, "Go kick his ass? Like this is _so_ much a Willow thing to say. Not."

She then looked hard at Xander and added, "I never was really happy about that, though."

Xander tilted back his beer and took a long pull, swallowed. Then shrugged, and looked Buffy dead in the eye.

"They hurt Willow," he said, quietly. "They killed Kendra. They _would_ have killed my Cordy if I hadn't got in the way and gotten my arm broke. Giles lost Ms. Calendar because of Overbite. All because jerk-off here's Evil Twin wasn't filling a dust buster long before." Xander smiled gently, "Glory was damn near death number three for you. But... I figured you _finally_ sending Mr. Pulse Impaired here to the Bad Place for a six month time out evened things up a bit, though."

Cordelia drew in a breath and held it, watching Buffy as she and Xander met each other's eyes evenly. Apparently, everyone else quit breathing also.

Finally, after a frozen moment that seemed to last forever, Buffy tilted her glass to him and smiled wryly. "Boy," she said, "We really were pretty messed up friends, weren't we?"

"We still are," Xander said, laughing softly.

"Which one? Friends or messed up?"

"Both," he said.

Angel threw his head back and started laughing, and everyone else started to breathe again. Except Buffy, Cordy, and Anya, who'd never completely stopped. And himself, of course. He'd never been worried for a moment.

Much.

Gunn snorted incredulously. Fred just stared, her expression likewise incredulous. "Man. You're taking that awful well for having someone tell you they sent you to the Bad Place for a century," Gunn said.

Angel stopped laughing finally, and shook his head. "Man. Xander, you really _are_ an asshole," he said, wonderingly. He turned to Gunn, shrugging. "If Buffy had known about the spell, she wouldn't have fought flat out, and I – or Angelus – would have killed her. And then Acathla would have sucked the world into its hell dimension."

"Well, yeah," Fred said, "But still... "

"Hey. Positions reversed? I'd have done the same thing," Angel said, shrugging again. "And I'd have enjoyed it probably as much as Harris did."

"Couldn't help noticing that you didn't look surprised either, Cordy," Buffy said. "Or you, Anya."

"Hey. I told Cordy everything when we were together back then," Xander said. "Why she had so much ammunition to use on me later." Cordelia nodded. "She never used that one against me, though," he added.

"Oh, I wasn't surprised either," Anya said. "Just surprised that Xander told the formerly murderous vampire serial killer to his face. What with the way he handled breaking off our wedding." She shrugged, adding, "I'm just saying."

"I thought you guys had sorta moved past that?" Dawn spoke up, looking shocked at all the recent admissions so far.

Anya looked at her, and then at Xander, and then at Cordelia, and then at Dawn again. "We did. Cordelia and myself, that is. I'm no longer interested in wreaking vengeance upon Xander's penis, granted. But this isn't something that Xander and I _can_ move past."

"I know. And I'm sorry, Ahn," Xander said sincerely, looking miserable, as Cordelia took hold of his hand underneath the table. "I really am. If there was some way I could make it up to you, for what I did –"

"I know. I mean, I believe you. But you _can't_ make it up to me," Anya told him frankly. "And then you married another woman within weeks after the wedding," she added, gesturing at Cordelia, "I'm not sure if this can be gotten past. I think that all we can do at this point is move on."

Cordelia squeezed Xander's hand under the table, hard, and met Anya's gaze steadily. "As long as we do move on," she said, her tone even. She smiled at the other woman. "I paid for him, and I always keep my purchases."

Anya nodded, smiling back. "I don't think that that store has a return policy, no."

"And I had first and oldest claim," Cordelia said, her tone still even. "There's plenty of unforgiveness to go around, if we want to head down that path. Just ask Vampire Willow. Or maybe Wish World Cordelia."

Anya nodded, still smiling. "I didn't realize you remembered any of the Wish World," Anya said, giving her a curious look.

"You told Xander about it," Cordelia said, "He told _me_ when we were catching up on things in Vegas and on the ride back to L.A. And vampire!Willow told us some things while she was here, remember?"

Anya nodded again, her smile not faltering. "That would explain it, yes."

Buffy raised both eyebrows, looking between them and looking as though she was measuring the undercurrents, but she held her piece beyond an indrawn breath.

"Luckily," Anya said, brightly, "This isn't Norway or Sweden in the eight eighties or nineties, and I no longer have brothers to call Xander out to a skerry and collect the weirgeld for me. I suppose I _could_ ask Olaf," she added, looking thoughtful.

"Hey!" Xander said, jerking slightly. Buffy began looking more than just slightly alarmed.

"You could ask the Groosalug," Cordelia said, matching Anya's tone. "I'm sure he'd be happy to, if he was asked nicely. Or Angel."

"Hey," Angel blinked and held up his hands, "Leave _me_ out of this one, please."

"Hey!" Xander said again, giving Cordelia a wounded look.

"Oh, you _so_ had that coming, Doofus," Cordelia said.

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence before Lorne said, "Well, _I'm_ certainly learning lots about this weird little extended family that seems to have adopted me."

Tara grinned and started whistling the Addams Family theme.

Lorne snapped his head around to stare at her. He said, slowly, "My. You have _such_ a lovely aura, sweetie. And may I just say that I am so glad that our Cordy-cakes _did_ get that vision in the nick of time to prevent the lethal surprise the Fates had lined up for you and your paramour."

Everyone froze again. Tara's mouth fell open, and Buffy stared at him. So did Dawn, Dawn's mouth falling open as well.

"And I just thought that out loud, didn't I," Lorne said uncertainly, seeing the expressions on everyone's face. "Oopsie."

"Oh-kay... " Buffy said. She shook her head slowly.

"Oh, I knew about that one too," Anya said, nonchalantly. She took a sip of her beer. "I just didn't think it was supposed to become common knowledge."

Tara's head turned slowly, and she turned to stare at Cordelia. Her mouth opened and closed several times, then she swallowed. "I'll be right back," she said, faintly. "I think I need a stiffer drink."

"That's my girl," Xander said, proudly. "Always the death of the party." Cordelia snorted, glaring at him.

The front door burst open as Tara was getting up, presumably to head to the liquor cabinet.

"Hey!" Willow burst in. "Did I miss anything?"

"I think I'll join you for that drink, Tara," Xander said, shaking his head and standing hastily.

"I think I'll join both of you," Lorne said.

* * *

.


	24. It's the End of My World As I Know It

**Chapter Twenty-one: It's the End of My World As I Know It (And the _hell_ was that noise... ?)**

* * *

"_I always have a fallback position whenever I take a risk. If all else fails, I'll die horribly, at great length, and in great pain. Mind you, it's not a __good__ fallback position..."_ – Walter Slovotsky

* * *

They'd migrated to the living room a some point shortly after. Tara was sitting back in one of the comfy chairs, still nursing the stiff drink she'd mentioned – a double shot of Wild Turkey in Coke – and Dawn was sitting on the arm of the chair as close to her as she could get short of crawling in with her.

"But I wouldn't _do_ that," Willow was saying. "Any of that. I _wouldn't_."

"I'm truly sorry, shortcake," Lorne said, "But with your best friend wounded and your friend shot to death right in front of you? And your lover dying in your arms? As sure as it don't rain in Indianapolis, you would have."

Willow glared at him and Lorne spread his hands apologetically. "The Powers may lie, we're discovering, but the Fates never do when they weave the threads in their patterns. I'm sorry."

"Please, Willow," Cordelia said. "It _didn't_ happen that way. And it _won't_. Just be happy I _did_ get that vision in time, barely. Move on. Take it as a warning sign post, spank your inner moppet, and get on with your life."

"But- but you made it sound like you saw me as some sort of... vein-y cackling evil monster," Willow said, looking at her desperately. "Like – like _Faith_. And I _couldn't_ do that, any of that."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Tara said, "But... " she trailed off, throwing her hands up in a helpless gesture and shrugging.

Willow stared at her, scandalized. She turned to Xander, who squirmed, looking uncomfortable.

"Tell them, Xander," Willow said. "You _know_ me. _Cordy_ knows me."

"Wish I could, Will," Xander said, looking anywhere except directly at her. Willow gasped, her eyes going anime large and shocked.

Xander shrugged, finally looking her in the eye. "I love you like a sister, Will. But you remember when Glory brain-sucked Tara and you drained all the dark magics you could find and soaked them up and went after her, all vengeance demony? And then," he said, "A few months later you were brain-sucking her yourself. And mind-wiping everyone else."

Willow jerked back like she'd been slapped, and her jaw dropped.

Her jaw shut, and her chin firmed up finally, and she glared at him. "I can't believe you would say that to me." She stood up, and carefully and determinedly, strode out of the room.

A brief while later, they heard the front door slam behind her.

"Hoo boy," Cordelia said, looking almost as miserable as Xander.

"Aren't you gonna go after her, Tara?" Buffy asked.

Tara shook her head. "N-no." She met Buffy's gaze steadily. "Willow really needs the wakeup call," she said. "We're not back together, not yet. And we won't be if she doesn't come to terms with this."

Anya nodded and looked at Tara approvingly. "You have a lot more steel than I thought you did."

Dawn rubbed Tara's shoulder, looking miserable. Tara patted her hand and gave her a wan smile.

"I really am so very sorry, sugar-cakes," Lorne said. "If I had known that Cordy-kins hadn't said anything about her vision, I never ever would have blurted that out like that."

"You didn't know, Lorne," Cordelia shook her head. "I didn't tell anyone but Anya, I don't think, and only because she guessed from something I said. But I guess your skeins didn't tell you that."

"They didn't, honey," Lorne said.

Tara shook her head. "It's ok, Lorne. But thanks." She looked at Cordelia, and said, "I'm glad to know. And thank you for saving my life."

"Well," Cordelia's lips quirked up on one side, "I was mostly trying to save Buffy's and my lame-brained husband's lives. But you're welcome."

"Hate to agree with Tara, because, hey – I love Will like a sister," Buffy said, "But she really does need the wake up." She sighed, "Just hope she pays attention to it. And this."

"Yeah... " Xander breathed. Cordelia squeezed his hand where it lay in her lap.

"But – " Buffy said, "Remind me to never ever sing or hum or whistle around you," she gave Lorne a serious look, smiling. "I've had enough mystical revelations this past year to last me for awhile."

"I'll do that, sugar-kins." There were chuckles from around the room.

"Well, not that wasn't fun, because it wasn't," Gunn said, to more chuckles, "But weren't we gonna figure some things out?"

"Yeah, 'cause that was a bit too much like listening in on Cordy and Xander's bedroom," Fred said to outraged yelps from both of them, "But, _boy_ can you guys throw a party!"

"We do really try to make them less explosive," Dawn said. "But tell me more about the bedroom thing."

Tara gave Fred a warning look. "Don't you dare. She's bad enough already."

"Ok, so we need to set up this integral thing," Cordelia said, doing her best not to laugh. "And I'd really like to get these orb things looked into also."

"Oh?" Buffy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Orbs?" Lorne asked.

"Yeah, Orbs of Nezzla'khan, Jonathan called them," Cordelia said. "Xander's been using them since he took them away from Warren. They need to be looked into because one demonic aspect in the family is enough and I have plans to take hubby out in public every once in awhile. Don't need him growing horns or scales or anything." She grinned at Lorne and added, "No offense."

"None taken, sweetie."

"I'll check into them when we get back and I can access our library," Angel said. He looked to Tara, "So, what's involved in this re-integration, and how much space do you need?"

She told him, and Angel looked thoughtful. "Ok. Use the mansion. The center of the basement is empty and big enough, and the floor is smooth marble." He frowned slightly, "No threshold, but with all these demon fighters? Shouldn't matter."

Tara grinned at that, ducking her head. "Oh – and I really could use a second to help anchor the ritual."

"I'll do that," Anya said. Everyone looked at her. "Oh, please. I'm friends now with the new wife person, and I've decided to be demonic about Xander's betrayal and be a much bigger person than all of the humans I used to grant wishes for."

Cordelia hid a grin at that.

Buffy's lips twitched at that, but all she said was, "No. I meant, I _think_ Tara meant another witch."

"I know." Anya said, nodding. "I was a fairly powerful witch when I was human before. I turned my cheating worm of a husband into a troll, remember? That's how I became a vengeance demon – D'hoffryn was impressed."

"I thought that Olaf guy was a troll god or something?" Dawn said, frowning. "Because you guys called it the troll god hammer after... " she looked at Buffy and shut up.

"Norse troll?" Angel asked and Anya nodded. "Trolls were gods in the Norselands," Angel said. "Well, demigods anyway. They were on a level with the Aesir as far as magical and supernatural power, or almost."

"Uh huh," Anya said, nodding cheerfully. "That's why D'hoffryn was so impressed. It took all my power and the life energy of everything in our village and in a league radius to make Olaf a troll." She looked thoughtful, "I suppose I feel bad about my parents now, but at the time, I was just too hurt and angry to care." She smiled brightly then, "But it really was a fantastic spell."

"That's nice, Ahn," Xander said, carefully. Gunn and Fred carefully edged a bit farther away from Anya.

Cordelia blinked. "M'kay. So, remind me not to ever really piss you off, huh?"

"Wow." Buffy said, looking dazed.

Tara blinked also. "You should be able to handle this then," she said. "N-no problems."

"Ok. Don't piss off the nice former demon lady," Gunn said. "Check. What else?"

"We're really concerned about Cordy's demon powers," Buffy said. "'Cause, no offense, Cordy, and I'm really grateful about you saving my life by stabilizing me and all, but watching you blow the Warren-bot through that gate pillar and into tiny Warren parts was kinda spooky, even for me." She grinned suddenly, "Impressive as all hell though. And kinda cool."

"None taken," Cordelia grinned back. "And, yeah, I have my concerns also."

"Another trip to the Conduit might be in order," Angel said. He shared a look with Lorne, and Lorne nodded. "And I believe I want to have a brief talk with Skip."

Lorne nodded again. "One that only one of you will enjoy?" the Host said, smiling slightly grimly.

"Hit him one for me," Cordelia said, her eyes growing hard.

"Not sure what we can do on that before we have to head back, though," Fred said. "I mean, Wesley had all the same books, and he and Angel _did_ look into it for some time."

"Apparently, not all the same books, Fred," Cordelia said, her voice arid. "From what Giles said, he has access to books and resources of the Council's that Wes doesn't and didn't."

Xander and Angel exchanged looks, and the vampire gave him an ironic looking nod.

"And apparently, not deeply enough," Angel said, dryly. "We may have to wait for Giles' input when he makes it over from England. And we really do have an ongoing case to get back to," he said, giving Buffy and Cordelia apologetic looks. "Three and a half days is about as long as we can stretch it."

"I'm sorry I won't be able to get back any time real soon, Angel," Cordelia began...

"Stop," Angel said, holding up a hand. "Your new husband just got shot. And you have enough on your plate right now. I don't want to hear it – come back when you can. You're on paid vacation as of when I almost fired you."

Xander grinned at him, and nodded approvingly.

"Ok, and it's _really_ kinda Hellmouthy to see you and Angel acting civilized to each other, Xan," Buffy said. "Stop it."

"Hey," Xander said, grinning. "Deadboy and I kind of cleared the air between us while we were in L.A. and got a lot of stuff off our chests."

"Boy, did we ever," Angel said, rubbing his jaw. He smiled back at Xander though.

"That's not your chest," Xander said, smirking.

"You didn't belt him one across the _chest_, it looked like to me," Gunn said, snickering.

"Ok... Oh! But I'm not sure what we can do about it," Cordelia said. Everyone looked at her, and she shook her head, saying, "Should have brought this up earlier. Boy have I been scattered lately."

"You've kinda had a lot of stuff on your mind, Barbie," Gunn said. "But hit us with it now."

"Ok, so I told you guys that Giles called me that night and hit me with the big world shaking thing, right?" Everyone nodded, and Cordelia threw up her hands, blowing her bangs out of her eyes, "What I think I forgot to mention was that according to Giles, a new Slayer was called when Buffy flat-lined in the OR, and the Council's all in a tizzy."

Buffy blinked. After a moment, she said, "Oh-kay. But I thought that they determined no Slayer was Called when I jumped off Glory's tower?"

Angel nodded. "That's what Giles told us when we were here for Buffy's memorial service... "

Cordelia shook her head and Angel trailed off. "I know. He said that. Apparently, when Willow brought you back, something happened with all that." she said, adding, "And I'm so sorry for being scatterbrained." Xander squeezed her hand.

Buffy waved that off. "Mind. Other things. More important. No worries. But... " she looked at Angel, a bit helplessly.

Angel looked back sympathetically. After a long moment, he said, "Gonna have to let Giles field that one also, when he gets here. I'm really not up on how the Slayer line works or is supposed to work." He paused, and then said, "I am glad that nothing happened to Faith, though."

Buffy opened her mouth to say something, and then spread her hands and shrugged. "So am I, I guess," she said, sounding grudging about it. "Sorry. Not my favorite person these days."

"Or ever, since the body swapping thing," Xander said. He added hastily at Buffy's almost reflexive glare, "And moving along... "

"But," Buffy said, looking at Cordelia, "Forget singing. _You're_ not allowed to talk anymore either. I thought I said I'd had _enough_ mystical revelations this past year to last me 'til the next Apocalypse."

"I know. Sorry," Cordelia said. "But I figured it's best to get everything in the pot while we're stirring." Cordelia paused, then added, "Ok. So, does 'from within you it devours' mean anything to anyone?"

Everyone looked at her, puzzled, then at each other. Angel shrugged.

"Should it?" Fred asked. "Sounds creepy, though." Gunn nodded.

"And where did that come from?" Buffy said.

"Dream walk thing. Recently. Like, since Vegas recent." At Buffy's inquiring look, Cordelia said, "Sorry. They're kind of... personal. May – no, _will_ – share them with Giles, but for now? All I'm gonna say."

"Vegas? Like, since the marriage Vegas?" Xander said, looking increasingly alarmed. "Not some Rosemary's Baby thing – "

"_No_!" Cordelia glared at him, then her eyes narrowed. "Better not be," she said. "Had _enough_ demonic pregnancies for one lifetime."

"Nothing like that showed in your aura, Cordy," Tara said, her eyes and tone reassuring.

"Was that before or after I blew you across the room?" Cordelia said, then smiled wryly, gesturing for Tara to ignore the snark.

"Before, sweetie," Tara said, laughing. "You are _not_ preggers. It would show."

"Ok. I'll add that to the list," Angel said. "Maybe there's something in our references. Anything else?"

"Noo... " Cordelia said, frowning. She shook her head, then added, "Except my dream guides kept calling me 'The One Who Sees' and saying it's within me to see. No clue what that means, except for the Seer thing. Oh, and that the demonic aspect was a blessing, but there'd be a price to pay." She shrugged, "All I got."

"Huh."

"Hrmm. From what you described, it wouldn't be a good idea for Sugarkins here to deep scan your aura again," Lorne said, "You could try singing for me again, if you wished? Maybe – "

"No." Cordelia smiled, but shook her head. "No offense, Lorne, but I'm not sure about your abilities or anything that might be related to the Powers at this point."

"None taken, honeybunch."

Buffy looked at Cordelia inquiringly, and when she got back another head shake and a shrug, around the room. As no one else seemed to have anything, she looked to Xander and gestured, "And over to you again, Stan."

"Last time you said that, you hit me with Warren," Xander said. Buffy smirked at him. "So," Xander continued, rubbing his hands together, and looking at Tara, "What do we need to do?"

"Well, once we get the circles scribed, you'll need to be sky-clad... "

* * *

"Oh, jeeze, dork," Cordelia said, looking exasperated. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Easy for you," Xander said, holding a cushion in front of him. Placed, err, strategically. "You're not going out there nekkid in front of every woman in Sunnydale."

"Oh, for... " Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Nothing all of them haven't seen before. What do you think they're going to do?"

"Point and laugh?"

"They _so _will not," Cordelia said, and then ruined it by smirking. "_Snicker_, maybe... "

"Gee, thanks ever so, honey." Xander shook his head. "And, there's guys."

"Oh, for... " Cordelia said again. "You are _such_ a baby. Think gym class."

"You don't want me to go there. I still wake up screaming thinking about gym class."

"I'm naked too, lamebrain." Cordelia sighed.

"Yeah, but on _you_, it looks good."

Cordelia shoved him out of the storage closet, and shut the door behind him, placing herself between him and it with her arms folded across her chest. No one laughed. But Angel and Gunn did have suspiciously studied looking blank expressions.

Big basement, which was good, because there was a full house. Only one missing was Dawn, and she'd been forcibly excluded, protesting loudly and violently, as soon as Buffy heard the words 'sky clad'.

The corners of Gunn's lips twitched suspiciously, and then he went back to his conversation with Buffy...

Xander sighed heavily, and kind of crab walked up to the edge of the big outer circle.

"It really is good of your guys to stay and help out," Buffy was saying.

"Hey, no big thang," Gunn said. He hefted the big, two-handed Moeller double bladed axe from Buffy's collection and grinned down at her. "Just let me keep _this_, and we'll call it payment. Seeing as how we're professionals and all."

"Gee, and I thought you were sentimentally attached to your hubcap axe, Gunn," Cordelia said as they wandered over that way.

"Am. But hey now," Gunn said, "This is sweet. Cutting edge and all that."

"So to speak," Cordelia said, dryly, and exchanging smirks with him.

"Done," Buffy said, "I have spares."

"Just don't touch the big single bladed ironwood handled one," Cordelia said, "Because that's always been Xander's and he hates it when someone else uses his mistress."

"You're my Mistress, Cordy," Xander said, raising his eyebrows, "That's just my axe."

"No, I'm your _wife_," Cordelia said, smirking. "Since we're going to do this properly, the other woman has to be your mistress."

"Ah. Okay , that works in the Jim Bowie sense, too," Xander said. To Cordelia's lifting eyebrows, he explained, "Alan Ladd movie? The Iron Mistress?"

"Swear to God," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. "Mind like Aunt Sophia's attic."

"I am a veritable font of contemporary trivia."

"You're a font of _something_, all right."

"Ok, so, where do you want me?" Xander asked Tara, breaking off the banter.

"In the circle in the center protection diagram," Tara said, "And lose the pillow first."

Cordelia yanked the cushion out from in front of him with an eye-roll. He replaced it with his hands cupped over his, umm. Yeah.

_Buffy's_ eyebrows rose and she gave a loud and cheerful wolf whistle, echoed by Fred. Xander turned beet red all over and rolled his own eyes.

"Oh!" Xander stopped as he was about to lift his foot to step inside the designs, raising his eyebrow instead. Tara said, "And do _not_ step on or smudge any of the lines."

"I _have_ done this before, you know," Xander said, with an eye-roll of his own. "And, you _do_ realize you just cursed me to step on or smudge something, right?"

He managed to make it through the maze of whorls and circles and lines without stepping on any of them, and laid down on his back in the center of the biggest interior circle. Cordelia followed him, equally carefully, and took her place. Tara reached out and drew in the last missing bit of the outer circle-pentacle thing, and closed it. She tossed the chalk far outside of the diagram, waved a hand with a murmured word, and all of the candles burst into flame. Pretty cool. Then she pricked her finger and touched it to the chalk line. There was a flash and a shimmer all around the outside pentacle, and she leaned in and started to place the shaka rocks or whatever they were in various places on Xander's nude body. Chakra stones. Whatever. Cordelia had already rubbed him all over with some sort of sacred oil or something.

That had been fun. They _almost_ hadn't made it out of the storage closet.

"That's pretty elaborate artwork there, girl," Gunn said, admiringly. "Don't think I've ever seen a hoodoo circle like that before."

It was, too, Xander had to admit. There was a large minor seal sort of thing with an inner circle that was man sized in diameter, oddly enough, considering it needed to hold him supine. With seven alternating black and white candles around it. And a smaller circle/seal thing to his left, large enough to hold Cordelia sitting cross-legged in its center, and down a bit with its center roughly where his navel was. Then there was another, similar, large circle-seal large enough for a naked Tara and Anya, wearing only jewelry, to sit in facing outwards from each other. That one drawn with its center a bit father up, even with his heart. Tara in lotus, and Anya as well.

Oooh. Naked Tara. There were compensations. Better keep that thought to himself. Oops... too late.

And, around all of that, there was a double circle with sigils inscribed between them inside of a five pointed star, single point up, within another double circle, filled with sigils and runes. And thirteen red and white candles spaced equally around the outside of the outermost circle. Seven white, six red, all lit now. And lots of other sigils and runes and mystical symbols inscribed in the other designs. All done in various colored chalks.

"Well, neo-Kabbalistic ceremonial, not hoodoo," Tara said. Gunn smirked and she giggled at him. Tara nodded to Gunn, explaining, "It all serves a purpose, though," she said. "The outer pentacle-slash-protective circle bars outside influences and magic from getting in. Especially the Hell-mouth's energies." Fred listened avidly as though she were committing it all to memory. She probably was. "And it also keeps out mystical creatures and spirits. Keeps any of them in, too."

"Cordelia's seal protects her, and also keeps her energies contained. It's linked to Xander's and ours because she's the anchor. Especially Xander's anchor." Tara pointed, and said, continuing, "And Xander's keeps all of our influences out except for Cordelia's, and his inside where they can be purified and integrated. All of the sigils in his are designed to focus that." She gestured at hers and Anya's finally, and said, "And ours is designed to focus and channel all of our energies through the entirety of the design and allow Anya to anchor the spell."

"Cool. I got maybe one word in three of that, but still, cool," Gunn said. He smirked and Tara giggled. "Gonna take it as a given you know what you're doing."

"Oh no," Tara said, her eyes open wide and her expression guileless, "I'm just kinda winging it. I hope I didn't draw any of the sigils upside down or anything. Cracked magazine said that would be _bad_."

Gunn's expression froze, and then he noticed Angel and Buffy's smirks, and he glared around at everyone. "Ha ha."

Tara giggled again, and he grinned back at her. Fred looked intently at the whole setup, and asked curiously, "I do trust you know what you're doing, but just from curiosity, what would happen if you did... "

"Draw the sigils upside down or invert a rune?" Anya asked. Fred nodded. "Oh, nothing. Just implode us all and summon an arch demon to eat our souls before we're all sucked into Hell to eternal torment. Leaving behind an eldritch horror to devour Sunnydale."

Everyone froze, staring at her.

"Ha ha. That was a funny," Anya said. "See?" She looked at Xander, "I _can_ make with the quips."

He glared at her, as did Cordelia, Buffy, and Angel. "Oh, fine," Anya said with a huff. "_Be_ that way. Nothing happens except the spell fizzles. Happy now?"

"Nothing happens," Tara said, with a sidelong glance and a quirky smile at Anya. "It just fails, like she said."

Everyone relaxed. Buffy said, "Ok, you _did_ have me going for a second, Ahn. Good deadpan there."

Anya nodded, grinning cheerfully. "I've been studying all of the classic comedic greats on HBO."

"Well, whenever Penn and Teller here are ready," Cordelia said, "My butt is getting cold on this rock. And I'm giving Gunn a free peep show and he seems to be enjoying it a bit too much."

Fred thumped him on the back of the head and he said, "Ow! Damn, Barbie. I was _not_!"

"Oh? Why not?" Anya said, "I think that the new wife person has a very excellent and pleasing form."

"Because I want to wake up in the morning with everything I went to sleep with still attached, that's why," Gunn said, looking annoyed. He noticed Fred was showing him no sympathy at all and added, "Seriously. Ow."

Tara giggled again, and then sobered abruptly. "Ok, now, everyone shush. Don't interrupt us or break our concentrations, please."

Tara closed her eyes, hands on her knees, thumb and ring fingers touching, other fingers spread slightly and curled just a bit, palms upward. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and took another. And again. Anya matched her position and breathing. After a few moments of that, Tara began chanting rhythmically in a language Xander had never heard before, and he felt himself growing sleepy...

Tara reached out gently with her right hand, touched the closest line of the circle-diagram holding her and Anya, and a line of blue-white mystical looking flame ran from her finger around it and outwards until all of the interconnected lines inside of the pentacle were lit with a ghostly, dancing, blue-white phosphorescence. The seven black candles flamed up and burst into light. The candles outside flared up, then dimmed to tiny points of light.

Darkness suddenly swept over Xander, and as he drifted down into lack of consciousness, he could have sworn he heard Tara's voice go...

"Oh. I don't _think_ that's supposed to happen... "

Struggling mightily to swim back up towards the light, he failed and sank, drifting endlessly, thinking, "Oh, crap."

* * *

.


	25. For I Am Shielded In My Armor -

**Chapter Twenty-two: For I Am Shielded In My Armor (I touch no one and no one touches me)**

* * *

"_... if you choose how to do it at random, you will screw it up... if you're careful about how you do it, you'll probably screw it up. Still, __'__probably__'__ is better than __'__will.__'__"_ – Walter Slovotsky

* * *

The line of blue-white flame ran from Tara's outstretched fingertip around the circumference of the circle surrounding her and Anya, thence to the sigils and runes, and from there along all the other interconnected lines and across the other runes and inscribed devices, until, at last, it reached the inner circle around Cordelia, met itself, and flared upward brightly. All of the candles outside the outer circle and inner flared up at once, and then dimmed to tiny pinpoints of light.

The incandescent blue-white ghost light dimmed, and then died away, leaving all of the circles and stars and lines and sigils and runes glowing faintly.

Cordelia began to glow faintly, her eyes rolled back in her head. Her back arched, and her head went back, mouth open as her hips bucked once, twice and again. She arched again, and then contracted forward, her head dropping and her hair falling across her face.

"Day-um, that looked intense," Gunn said. Fred elbowed him, but she nodded agreement.

Within the circle containing Xander, the chakra stones flared and glowed, then dimmed, in sequence from his head down. Then they all flared and glowed at once, and remained glowing.

Tara maintained her chant, with Anya joining in in rhythmic counter point.

"What language is that," Buffy whispered to Angel. "I've never heard anything like it."

"I think... " Angel frowned, then whispered back. "I _think_ it's Enochian, but I'm not sure."

"oh."

Buffy's expression was still uncomprehending, and Angel sighed, resisting an urge to roll his eyes. "The language supposedly used by men to communicate with angels," he elaborated, whispering.

"Oh. Right," Buffy said, nodding vigorously. "I knew that..."

A ghostly white radiance, like glowing smoke, began to flow from Xander's body at the head, heart, and navel. It swirled upwards within the circle, contained by it, and the three columns swirled about each other, never quite touching or intermingling.

There came a sudden rush of noise, like a wordless shout in a million discordant voices from within the circle containing Xander. Another faintly glowing, indistinct smoky form began to coalesce within the circle with him, and the three columns of smoky fire from his body fled to the outer limits of the confinement circle, as far from it as they could get.

Tara stopped chanting abruptly, and her eyes snapped open. "Oh. I don't _think_ that's supposed to happen... " she said.

Anya's eyes snapped open also. "Oh, my. I don't think so either." She swatted Tara on the leg. "What did you _do_?"

"Me!"

"Ok, you guys are scaring me now," Buffy said. "What's going on in there?" She started to take a step forward, and Angel grabbed her by the arms.

"No!" he said, urgently. "Do _not_ break that circle. Under _no_ circumstances."

Buffy said, "But... " and then subsided. Gunn and Fred looked to Angel, who just shrugged, and looked back helplessly.

"Oh-kay... " Cordelia's eyes opened and she looked askance at the display in Xander's circle, then at Tara and Anya. "What are you two doing to my idiot husband? I _thought_ you said it'd just _fail_?"

"W-we didn't do it!" Tara said. "It's not any of us. And n-nothing is s-s-supposed to be able to break into the circles and seals from outside."

"Unless it's a god," Anya said, matter of factly. "Or an eldritch being. Or a Power."

"Oh, great." Cordelia looked at the display again, then glared back at them. "Well? _Fix_ it!"

"Uh," Tara looked blank. "I-I'm not sure how... "

The Other within the circle had now coalesced into an indistinct form that seemed to be comprised at one moment of numerous tentacles around a central glowing ball, the next, a vague humanoid shape with a suggestion of hundreds of arms and fists.

Anya looked at it, examining it critically, and then reached out and took both of Tara's hands in her own. "Deep breath, Tara. Center. Focus. And then start chanting again."

She looked across the circle at Cordelia and gathered her up in her gaze, and locked eyes with her. "You. Focus on Xander. And close your eyes and go back to breathing like we told you."

Cordelia stared at her. "Do you know what the hell you're doing?" she asked.

"No." Anya's gaze was calm, unruffled. "Do you have any better ideas?"

Cordelia stared into Anya's eyes for an endless moment, then drew in a ragged breath, and closed her eyes, beginning to breath in slowly and calmly. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Down deep into the diaphragm, hold, then out, forcing calm onto herself.

"Now. Focus on Xander with all your might – Mind, Heart and Soul," she heard Anya's voice say. "If you want to keep him, that is... "

She continued to breath and did that. Focused on his touch, the feel of his lips, his laugh, that cockeyed grin... the look in his eyes when he'd told her 'until the suns go out and the galaxies grind to a halt'. The tight, agonized feeling in her chest when she'd seen him and Willow kissing in that – no. Then she realized _that_ was a part of him too, and surrendered and threw it in as well.

She heard Anya begin to speak, her voice quiet at first...

"Be _stilled_ the tongue that speaks. Be _stilled_ the grasping hand. Be _stilled_ the maw that rends."

The babble of discordant voices within the circle quieted, not gently, but as though chopped off with a knife.

"Apotropaia, She that Protects, Klêidouchos, Holder of the Keys, Phosphoros, Bringer of Light, _walk_ among us. Morrigu, She Who Destroys; Cyrridven, Muse and Shaper of the Twice Born; Janu, Keeper of the Hidden Ways – _hear_ me!"

Outside the circles, Buffy whispered urgently to Angel, "What is she doing? Who are all those names?"

"She's calling on the big guns. All of the old Powers... old gods. Hecate, Morrigan, Cerwidden, Janus... but I don't know what she's doing. Or trying to do."

"I think, Angel-cakes," Lorne's voice came over quietly from just behind and to her other side, "She's trying to open a Way. For whatever reasons... "

"Thou arte un_wanted_," Anya said over the sound of Tara's chanting. "_Be_gone. Thou arte _barred_ from this place. _Begone_. Thou arte _scorned_. Be_gone_! Take thee _hence_. I tell thee, I tell thee – I tell thee _thrice_: be_gone_."

Her voice was quiet, it seemed, but it also seemed to rise in volume and intensity until the last word rolled and broke like a crack of thunder, rolling through the mansion's basement. Lightning flashed outside, and matching thunder rolled in.

Cordelia jumped in her circle, as did everyone outside in the basement, but kept her eyes closed and maintained her deep even breathing. Her glow intensified, and flowed through the lines to envelope Xander's form in the containment circle.

The cacophony of discordant voices came back, swelled, and grew.

"LITTLE DEMONLING. DO NOT _THINK_ TO MATCH INTENTS WITH ME."

"Oh, please," Anya said. "My kind were _ancient_ when you were yet a wet spot running down the leg of the World's Dream." Her voice was as scornful and dismissive as her words. "This man was _mine_. This man is _hers_. This man is _ours_. You may not _have_ him. I tell thee _Thrice_!"

Something lashed invisibly at it, and the discordance turned into a wordless howl, and the indistinct changing and changeless form swirled and raged in the circle...

Anya's voice rose in intensity again. "Hagarg Ryonis, Lier in Wait! Karakal! Tamash! Take this trespasser and cast her to the Endless Depths of Pnath! Be_gone_ with _her_! I _be_seech thee! I be_seech_ thee! I _beseech_ thee a_gain_! Thrice, Thrice and _Done_!" Power lashed and built and grew and coiled in a wavering roil about her and Tara.

"Holy crap," Lorne's eyes went wide.

"What!" Buffy's eyes went as big as saucers at the hushed alarm in his voice, and she grabbed his arm.

"Ow." Buffy eased her grip hastily. "She's pulling out all the stops, cupcake. Calling on the Great Ones from the Dreaming Wastes."

"What does that _mean_, exactly?"

"Shhh!" Angel was intent on the circle and the drama playing out in it. His hands clenched into fists from the frustration of watching from outside, unable to do anything.

"I am Magi, one of the Wise. I _be_seech thee! I am Magi, one of the Wise. I call on _thee_! I am Magi, one of the Wise. I _co_mmand thee! I am Magi, one of the Wise. I cast thee _out_! I am Magi, one of the Wise. I call up_on_ all that are connected in Faith and Love to these two, and I draw them _in_! I am Magi, one of the Wise. I _call_ upon all the scattered souls of this man, and I bid thee _bind_! Bind! Bind! I am Magi, one of the Wise. I _call_ upon all the Myriad Names of the _End_less. I am Magi, one of the Wise. I call them _in_, and I send thee _hence_!"

There was a long, seemingly endless pause, and then Anya's voice rose again, mingled with Tara's chanting. She and Tara began to glow white to match Cordelia. The coiled power lashed and roiled and then flowed into the circles about Xander and Cordelia from the two women, flaring up, blinding actinic blue-white, and sinking down into the lines and sigils, making them glow white hot.

"I am _Ma_gi, one of the _Wise_. I am Ma_gi_, one of the _Ancient_. I am _Magi,_ I walk in _Po_wer. That which is bound, I _bind_ thee! That which is sundered, I _ga_ther thee! That which is joined, I _join_ thee! That which is scattered, I _call_ thee! That which is broken, I _form_ thee! That which is loved, I bid thee _hold_! I am Magi, one of the Wise. I command thee _hence_! Once, thrice, and _Done_!"

Thunder pealed both outside the mansion, and within the circle. Blue white light raced, grew around Anya and Tara and swept from them around the inner designs and sigils, finally concentrating upon the ones containing Xander, linking him to Cordelia, and around Cordelia, and her to him. The Other – eldritch being, Power, whatever it was – coiled and lashed in seeming rage against the barrier of the circle, causing it to flare whitely.

Xander's back arched within the circle, his mouth opening in a wordless scream. Cordelia's back arched, her head going back and her eyes opening and turning to pure white. Her hips bucked, and she let out a low, gutturally sensual wordless scream that raised the hair – and other things – on every male in the room. The lines and runes and sigils about them flared and dimmed, glowing and pulsing slowly like the beat of joined hearts.

And a glowing rip, black in the center, opened in the circle containing Xander and sucked the formless horror into it.

The three glowing, swirling smoke figures from Xander's body swept in with it, and Cordelia slumped forward and went limp.

Xander slumped within his circle, went bonelessly limp, and all of the lights within and surrounding the glowing chakra stones flared, dimmed – and went out.

"Well, that was certainly invigorating," Anya said, opening her eyes.

Tara's eyes opened as well, and she stared at Anya, mouth agape, pupils dilated, her nipples tiny little points, and her eyes wide and dazed.

And all of the lights in the basement went out.

* * *

"The _Hell_ did you _do_?!"

Buffy was prevented from launching herself through and into the faintly glowing pentacle to throttle Anya – or at least throttle some answers out of her – only by Angel throwing his arms around her and physically dragging her backward.

The mansion lights blinked several times, wavered, and then came back on.

"I anchored the spell. Duh." Anya blinked at her.

Buffy's eyes bugged out. She started twisting, shimmying, wriggling, and stalking forward for all she was worth, dragging Angel with her. "Let me _go_, Angel. I'm gonna claw my way into that circle and rip her lungs out and use them for a _belt_... "

"No! Buffy, calm _down_, please," Angel panted, doing his level best to hold Buffy back.

"Don't _tell_ me to calm down. I'm going to _bathe_ in a fountain of former vengeance demon's blood... "

"Buffy! No... "

"Give me one single good reason," Buffy panted, her hair all askew and her clothing becoming disheveled by Angel's grip and her struggles.

"Because you might kill Xander and Cordelia."

"Oh." (beat) "Crap."

"Oh-kay, I take back everything I said about the parties you guys throw," Fred said, sounding dazed, standing with both of her hands clasped tight around Gunn's bicep. "You people are fucking in_sane_! I wanna go back to Pylea where it's _safe_!"

Gunn shook his head slowly, closing his mouth, finally. He opened it again to say, "I thought you were only joking about that eldritch horror thing."

"Oh, I was," Anya said, nodding vigorously. "But someone forgot to give the eldritch horror a copy of the script."

Buffy's mouth worked silently for a few minutes, then she said, slowly, "Gotta be careful what you say on the Hellmouth."

Tara closed her mouth, also looking dazed. She blinked, shook her head, and said, "Wow. I'm in awe. Ok. Let's do that again, only harder."

"Not tonight, dear," Anya said, patting her on the leg. "We're not done with this one yet."

"ok. Anya. 'Splainey to me, using small and easily grasped words: what the _hell_ did you _do_?" Buffy's voice rose as it went until the last word came out as a kind of strangled shout.

Anya cocked her head for a long moment, looking thoughtful. Then, "I gathered in all of the high powered help I could, called in several of eleven hundred years worth of favors, strengthened all of the bonds between Xander and Cordelia, opened a Way, and pushed through eldritch horror and Xander and his fractured spirits and Cordelia's spirit and all and shoved them out to where they could do battle in a place with an even footing," she said. She blinked, and added, "Simple enough? I'm not sure I _can_ simplify any farther."

"Oh." Buffy blinked.

"Anya. Sugar-kins," Lorne said, "Where did you _send_ them?"

"Oh!" Anya said, brightly. "Through the Never Never and into a space in the Dreamways between the Ghost Roads and the Astral Realms. Spirit realm, spirit battle. Cordelia should be even up on whatever the hell that was there." She looked thoughtful, "And she'll have help there. I think. If I did it right."

Lorne looked boggled. "Uh, you can do that?"

"Well, duh. I just _did_."

"Anya," Angel said, gently. "_Why_ did you do that?"

"Well, because eldritch horror thing wasn't playing nice with being banished," Anya said, looking blankly at him. "Duh. You didn't want Xander's spirit selves shredded and devoured in front of all of our eyes, did you?"

Angel opened his mouth, then paused, looking thoughtful. Buffy worked an arm loose and whopped him alongside the head.

"Ow. No. Of _course_ not," he said, wincing.

"Good. Because Cordelia's would have been devoured along with his, since she was anchoring for him." Anya looked thoughtful, "And maybe Tara's too, but I'm not sure about that."

"Ok, so, what now?" Fred asked, as Tara gave Anya a disconcerted look.

"N-now? We w-wait until they're done so we can call them b-back," Tara said. She didn't look happy about that.

"I need a drink," Gunn said. "A stiff one."

Buffy nodded vigorously in agreement.

* * *

It was sex and chocolate. It was a stiff shot of Amontillado with a chaser of Jamaican Blue Mountain. It was free-fall from thirty thousand feet to a HALO opening. It was mescal and cocaine. It was the best orgasm she ever had, coupled with the best sex she'd never had.

It swept her up, twisted her inside out, swallowed her whole and –

– Spit her out again and dumped her out rolling onto a plain of black beneath a night time Roger Dean sky a few feet from a burning fire and a glowing pentacle filled with swirling flames.

Cordelia groaned, pulled herself up and got to her feet, brushing off her... uh, dignity.

There was a man standing beside that fire, about Xander's height and width, leaning on an iron shod overlong staff of desert ironwood, and looking at her with a bemused expression.

He had on a flat brimmed Aussie style leather Stetson, an ankle length drover's coat of dark brown, black jeans, dark brown harness boots, and a blue t-shirt that said "Wizards do it in Pentagrams". There was a familiar looking long sword in scabbard on his hip – she could swear she'd used it only recently in a porn studio against a Thrazz'll demon – a holstered big semi-automatic and a huge ivory handled Moeller bowie on the other hip to balance it, and a silver pentacle on a chain around his neck. He had longish black hair and an eye patch covering the left eye over a long whitish scar angling from above the eyebrow to down the cheek.

And a seriously large black grizzled tabby cat that someone had obviously forgotten to tell cats weren't supposed to get near puma sized draped across both shoulders, giving her a baleful golden stare. Also, the biggest freaking dog she'd ever seen in her life was sitting at his feet lolling its tongue out at her and giving her a dancing eyed doggy grin.

Oh. And she was still naked, too. Err, sky clad. Fuck it: buck bare assed naked.

She growled deep in her throat, blew her bangs out of her eyes, and drew herself up, chin up and back straight, and gave him and his cat and his dog a go to hell look. Let 'em get an eyeful – everyone else seemed to be lately.

"Well, that's certainly something you don't see every day," he drawled. "Hi, Cordy."

Cordelia blinked, and looked hard at him. Blinked again.

"Xander? What the _fuck_? _Where_ the fuck?"

The lopsided grin spread across his lips, and he said, "Ok. Not necessarily in that order, but... The fuck in the far mystical realms of the Never Never somewhere adjacent to the Dreamways and the Ghost Roads; not sure what the fuck; and, _p__robably_ not the fucking Xander you're expecting."

She blinked again. It was becoming a habit. "Oh-kay... " Cordelia shook her head. "Let's say I buy that for a dollar. Which fucking Xander are you, and, the _fuck_ you say?"

Those lips twitched and the eye danced at her. "That's my Cordy. Ok, well, maybe not _my_ Cordy, but... " He gestured with his head and eye out beyond the fire and the pentagram, into the Roger Dean night.

She followed his gaze, and went, "oh," in a very small voice.

A slightly altered version of the elaborate pentacle circle seal arrangement from Angel's basement had apparently followed – or preceded – her here. Xander's circle, with his nude body still supine in it, was in the very center now, with three, rather than one, circle seals like the one she'd sat in arrayed equidistantly around him. In one, a ghostly Xander wearing fatigues and ghostly camo face paint stood guard with an M-16 – no, an AR-10: she recognized the straight wide magazine and larger bore from Wesley's collection – facing outwards. In the next, there was a grizzly looking shaggy brown-black furred ghostly monstrosity with a crest of white-black striped fur down its back and black striped white legs/arms that wavered and shifted between hunching ginormous four-legged hyena to towering humanoid hyena thing. With glowing green eyes and more teeth than the Osmond family. It, too faced outwards.

The third contained, well, _Xander_. A ghostly Xander faintly doubled, with an atrocious Hawaiian shirt, baggy chinos, high topped black Converse sneakers, and a goofy half grin. And a sword in one hand and his double edged axe in the other. _The_ sword, rather – the St. Tristam sword, faintly glowing and dripping a bit with something icky from the edge and point. And the fainter, even ghostlier phantom shadow Xander-double behind him was wearing nice slacks, a nice sage dress shirt, and a cool looking dark brown suede jacket...

Also facing outwards, as if on guard, as well.

There was a larger circle around everything, looking as though it had been hastily scratched or dragged across the sleek looking stone floor of this place, with a vague shimmer extending upwards from it. And...

And a... a... a _thing_ prowled around the edges of it, periodically battering at the shimmer with one... whatever the hell that was.

And every time it bashed at the shimmer, glowing ripples extended from the impact point and Duster Xander and all ghostly Xanders and Hyena Thing would flinch. And unconscious Xander would twitch. And moan, horribly.

Eww.

"What... " Cordelia had to stop and lick her lips and swallow hard to finish. "What happens when that, uh, barrier goes down? If."

"Well, something bad, I'd imagine," Duster Xander said, dryly.

"Yours?" she said. "I mean, the barrier, not the hideous howling thing outside."

"Figured you meant that. And, yup." He cocked his head, looking at her curiously, "As to your earlier question, um, what did your Xander go dressed as the Helloween that Ethan Rayne came to town?"

"Huh?" Cordelia blinked, wrenching her eyes and her mind away from that flowing, prowling _thing_ out there. "Oh. Soldier. Fatigues, M-16, sexy attitude."

"Ah. Figured as much."

"Meaning?"

"I'm the Xander that _didn't_ get a toy gun, and went dressed as Harry Dresden in Uncle Rory's old duster with Jesse's Aussie hat and a bunch of odds and ends from Ethan's shop." He sighed, "And you're not my Cordy, I'm thinking. You're his."

"Yeah," Cordelia's lips quirked up into a half smile. "Guess I am."

He nodded. "Figured as much, like I said."

"Ok. How'd you lose the... " She pointed.

"What?" He clapped a hand to his face. "Oh my god! My eye! My eye!"

"_Jerk!_" Cordelia snorted, scowling at him. "Seriously."

"Freak Parcheesi accident. Dangerous game."

"So, you don't want to say. Fine," Cordelia said, scowling at him, "So. What the hell is going on here? And... uh, who're your friends?"

Duster Xander grinned at her. "Rascal and Miyagi," he said, indicating the cat and then the oversized Tibetan Mastiff. "Or their spiritual expressions. And, I've been here for a while after being put through a wall by a Dullahan. Hopefully while _my_ Cordy and Faith and Amy are doing something about it, and the doctors are repairing me."

"Oh," she said, nodding. Made as much sense as anything else. And, hey, hadn't Joyce said something about the Never Never and the Ghost Roads? "Have any idea how we got here?" Cordelia asked.

"Don't you?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, last I remember, we were in the basement of Angel's mansion doing a re-integration spell-slash-ritual thing on Xander's psyche and aura."

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and suggest that something went blooey," he said, as dryly as before.

"Snerk. Gee, you might say that," she said, snickering. "That," she gestured, "_Thing_ invaded it and then Anya, uh, did something. and here we are."

"Anya? Huh. Ok," he said, nodding. "I'm on the page now, I think."

"You are? I'm glad one of us is."

"Well, your hubby was here before and we had a long talk. He described what was going on pretty much in detail," he said, "And we know the devil is in those."

"Ah." At least it wasn't cold here, she thought. Skin wasn't much for protection from the elements.

As if he'd read her mind, or maybe her expression, Duster Xander sighed. "I'd play the gentleman and give you my coat, but it's spelled all to hell and gone with protective magics, and I'm thinking I'll need it if thingy there breaks through while we're talking."

"Oh. No worries,'" she said, "It's not like I didn't spend enough time naked with _my_ Xander when we first woke up in Vegas, married. And I'm sure you've probably seen your Cordelia bare assed at least once."

To his credit, Duster Xander didn't smirk, only nodded. "Ok. Tell me about the ritual and what happened. Exactly, and in as much detail as you can remember. And what's been going on since, oh, around the time you guys hit the hospital after Warren shot Xander and Buffy." There was a crash, a rippling shimmer, and a four way flinch and twitch, and he glanced outwards. "And might want to move it along," he said.

She did.

"Ok," he said, once she'd finished and he chewed on things for a short bit, "I'm thinking whatever Power or Powers have been jerking your chain decided to take advantage of the situation to try and remove the pain in their assets there. Warned your boy that enemy action was a problem."

"Not a big leap," Cordelia said, her tone and expression wryly amused. "I was headed there myself."

"Yeah yeah. Everyone's a critic."

"Two shows a night, I'm here all week. Tip your waitress."

They smirked at each other, and he said, "Ok. So... from what you recall, if it's close to accurate – "

"Close as I could manage," she said.

"Then your Anya saved both your lives. Or souls. Same thing. She sent you here where you could finish the ritual, and you had equal ground with that thing. And allies."

"Huh. You don't sound like a Xander," Cordelia said, cocking her head and examining him critically.

"Hey. I'm a Xander with all of the memories of Harry Dresden up to, oh... a book that's probably not published yet in your 'verse. And six years of using magic and fighting nasty crap under the tutelage of my own version of Bob the Skull. And more than sixteen years trapped in a hell dimension. It has an effect."

"Point taken," Cordelia said. She glanced back at the various Xanders, including the one with the very faint double, and thought, '_this_ _is gonna have a few twists we didn't anticipate._'

She took a deep breath, and said, "So. What do I do? Or we do?"

"Well... " he sighed. "I'm going to do something that'd probably get Dresden beheaded by a Warden: I'm gonna send you into your Black Knight's head to reintegrate him. So _you_ both can come back out and hopefully help me kick that eldritch thing's ass." He smirked, "Assuming it doesn't get in first. In which case, been nice knowin' yas, and here's looking at you, kid."

"Ok," Cordelia shuddered all over, took a deep breath, and swallowed. Hard. "So, what do I do?"

Dresden Xander eyed her critically, then grinned and nodded approvingly. "You'll do. Come here and stand in front of me." He boosted the big cat off his shoulders and it hit the ground with a thump and a protesting squall, and wandered off a bit to lick its nuts in an offended fashion.

She walked over and stood in front of him, looking up slightly, curiously.

He closed his eyes – eye – and slipped an arm around her waist, and _thoroughly_ kissed hell out of her.

After a minute or two or three, once her knees stopped buckling and her toes finished curling, she started wondering what else was supposed to happen and pulled back from the kiss.

He opened his eyes – eye – and smirked at her.

"Oooooh!" Cordelia stepped back and let him have it, open palm, right across the kisser. "You you – jerk!"

One-eyed Xander stared laughing, his gaze dancing merrily. "Couldn't resist. And I'm _not_ sorry, either." She folded her arms across her chest, blew hair from her eyes, and glared at him, and he laughed again. "Ok," he said, "Seriously, this time. Look into my eye. Since you said you've _read_ the Dresden files, you know what happens."

Oh. Gulp. She remembered reading about the soul gaze. And while it hadn't ever sounded really nasty per se, people who soul gazed Harry always seemed to end up deeply impacted by it.

Like, life changing impact for anyone not named Marcone.

Taking a deep breath, Cordelia raised her chin and met Other Xander's eyes. Eye. And fell into them... it...

... and landed, on her feet, with an almost physical thump.

_This_ Xander _was_ integrated. Hyena and man and boy and Wizard.

_This_ Xander was as deeply, irrevocably in love with _his_ Cordelia as she hoped hers was with _her_, and it took her breath away. And gave it back, full of life and laughter and sorrow and pain and joy.

_This_ Xander had an aura of power about him that wrapped him like a cloak, and hit you with a physical impact, like a punch in the gut. And then wrapped you about in soft, warm arms that promised you'd never be harmed, that he would _die_ screaming and fighting to the last erg of his soul before anything got past him to hurt you.

_This_ Xander was light and shadow and darkness and pain and sorrow and music and laughter and joy, shot through with ripples of boundless rage wrapped in tight control and sour sardonic humor and witnessed horrors and scars and vanquished foes and loss. And love.

_This_ Xander was a steel blade in a cloak of magic and darkness. Her Black Knight, her Knight of Ghosts and Shadows, as she'd dreamed him up when they were little and she didn't yet know that there _were_ no Knights, that all of them had tarnished armor and their horses limped and there was no happily ever after.

_This_ Xander leaned in and gently kissed her until she forgot all that and believed in magic and ever after and Black Knights and fiery steeds once again.

_This_ Xander was Magi, One of the Wise, wrapped in power and steeped in magic, and _nothing_ was going to get past him until she put _her_ Xander back together and dragged him back out kicking and screaming to face down whatever Powers-be-damned thing whoever was jerking her around had sent after them. Not nothing and not nobody.

_This_ Xander picked her up and hurled her like a spear of light and love and blazing energy through his mind's eye representation of the intricate circle-seal thing and into the mind's eye of _her_ Xander where –

– Where she fell, fell away, fell endlessly and down and landed with a thud.

And got up and wrapped _her_ power about her like a cloak and a chain mail bikini and took sword and soul in hand and went in search of her idiot husband.

* * *

.


	26. But My Dreams They Aren't As Empty

**Chapter Twenty-three: But My Dreams They Aren't As Empty (As My Conscience Wants to Be)**

* * *

"_1) __Never throw shit at an armed man. __1a__)__ Never stand __next__ to someone who is throwing shit at an armed man.__"_ – Larry Niven (_Niven's Laws_)

* * *

It was barbed wire and lemon juice across his naked skin. It was waking up with a tequila hangover from a four day binge. It was a HALO drop from twenty thousand feet and realizing you'd grabbed the Scoutmaster's backpack on the way out the door instead of a parachute. It was being strangled in a bizarre parody of sex by a Slayer gone psychotic and feeling your body respond anyway, against your will. It was jacking off endlessly and not being able to cum. It was seeing Cordelia impaled on a chunk of re-bar at the bottom of a busted staircase. It was the look in Cordelia's eyes and the scorn in her voice when she ordered you away...

It wrapped him up in pain and rage and unutterable loss, turned him inside out, fed him mescaline and peyote and chewed him up and shit him off a skyscraper and –

– Dumped him flat on his ass in the middle of the blasted ruins of Sunnydale High School.

Figures. He'd spent enough of the most intense and horrifying days of his life here. Might as well spend the agonizing days of his death here too.

Never trust a jilted ex-vengeance demon. Anya probably did this on purpose.

Still naked. And still covered in so called sacred oils, now covered with abrasive grit. Like a day at the beach spent skinny dipping. Sand gets into cracks where you didn't know you had cracks.

Heh. There were probably flakes of decayed Mayor McSnake on him, too. Eww.

'Nuff self pity, Harris. Fuck that noise. And if that sounds a bit like your inner Daddy Harris, well, fuck that too. Time for the old standby when we're deep in it and it's hitting the rotating blades and all there is to do is –

– Ask, "What would Buffy do?"

Xander looked around. Huh. This isn't a Buffy kind of world. Ok, time for a switch to meet the circumstances of landing on your dead ass in a post-Apocalyptic Sunnydale teenage wasteland and –

– Ask yourself, "What would _Faith_ do?"

Easy enough. She'd find a weapon, something to kill with it, and then something to screw and strangle to death in mid orgasm.

Actually, doesn't sound like all that bad a plan. Has the benefit of being kinda brutally direct.

And he was kind of feeling like screwing and killing something for a change. Universe had had _him_ bent over dry and feeling the garrote often enough over the past few years, Zeus knew.

Xander snorted, grinning sourly to himself. When you think the universe just doesn't give a fuck, don't be mad: it's being as friendly as it ever gets.

He looked around and found a thick four foot chunk of rusty re-bar sticking wildly out of a hunk of shattered concrete. Oddly appropriate. Xander bent it back and forth until it snapped, and examined the broken end with professional appraisal. Step one: find weapon. Mission accomplished.

Time for step two.

No need to look for something to kill. Something life and death in Sunnydale teaches you at sixteen is: there is _always_ something lurking around the next corner just _waiting_ to bite off your face.

He shouldered his trusty rusty semi-sharp five eights inch thick club-spear and set off nude through the rubble. But no longer naked.

He seemed to recall that he was supposed to be getting all integrated in the aura and shit. Might as well be about it. Integrate this, Universe.

There was a scrabbling and a tiny clatter from the wreckage somewhere behind him and he whirled, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness within the rubble strewn building, but the faint moonlight wasn't up to the task of illumination here. He _thought_ he saw a faint movement back there somewhere, a shadow among shadows slipping past a wall, but he couldn't be sure. He froze in that position for a long time, senses straining in all directions around him. Finally, he straightened a bit, and slid as noiselessly as he could deeper into the remains of the old school.

Great. Toldja: don't have to go looking for anything here. In Sunnydale, the darkness comes looking for you. With teeth.

Still Small Voice piped up, and said, '_In that case, stay put. Get all the action you want._'

Don't really want it. Besides since I'm starting to think I'm not actually dead, getting et doesn't sound like such a good way to change that.

'_Wimp. You never want to just up and boot some head. It's how we get into these situations._'

Who the hell you think you are, Ed Gruberman? Hey – are you one of the things I'm supposed to be integrating?

'_Naw. I'm just your inner dialogue. I'm here to give the viewing audience an illusion of__plot while we're standing around pulling our pud_.'

Great. Breaking the fourth wall in my own head. What is this, Saved by the Bell?

'_Zach you are not. He's better looking. And funnier._'

Movement up ahead through that opening. A dark rustle and a gleam of white. Xander stalked forward carefully, gathered himself, raised old trusty and rusty, and leaped forward with a ferocious yell.

Dark Rustle whipped around as he came through the opening, giving off a high girlish scream and raised its own whatever, cocked it back, and beaned him smack dab in the forehead as trusty rusty came down in a short tight arc and caromed off its skull.

Ow. Both he and Dark Rustle staggered back clutching their foreheads in pain and cursing at volume. Huh. Dark Rustle sounded awfully familiar for some reason...

'_See? Not Saved by the Bell, it's the Three Stooges_.'

Oh, shut the fuck up.

"Ow! Sonofa_bitch_ that hurts. You hit me!"

"Well what'd you expect? Sneaking around in the carcass of ole SHS at night. And _you_ were trying to brain _me_!"

Xander glared at himself, one hand clapped to his aching forehead. Himself glared back, and likewise. "I was not! Well," Xander said, "Except for the part where I was. What the hell are you _doing_ here?"

'_I take back the part about funnier. You two should be on Nick at Night._'

Bite me. And shut _up_ so I can hear myself think.

Self's glare intensified. "I'm gonna have a hard time answering if I shut up, dillweed."

"I wasn't talking to you. Thinking. Whatever." Xander shook his head, regretted it. "Ow. Was Still Small giving local color."

"Oh. That prick."

Dark Rustle looked awfully familiar 'cause he was. He looked like – and was – Subconscious Xander from, oh, awhile back now. Minus the duster and Aussie hat, but same smirk, same scruffy shaggy look, and still wearing darkness. Hence getting him whopped in the skull at night. Still in black fatigue pants, old jump boots, a Sunnydale Razorbacks baseball cap, and a black shirt over a white t-shirt this time, this one reading: "My parents went to Sunnydale High and all I got was this stupid snake burger."

A faded black denim jacket had replaced the black duster, but it still gave him the same ambiance.

"Ok. Let's try this again. What are you doing skulking around here in the dark?" Xander asked.

"Looking for you, dumb-ass," Unconscious Him said. "And don't point that thing at me. It might be loaded."

"Huh?" Xander looked at trusty rusty, currently dangling at the end of his right fist. "I'm not – oh, ha ha."

"Least I'm not naked and covered in oil and snake flakes. Eww." Unconscious Him covered his eyes with a hand. "At least put something on, jeeze.'

Xander glared at himself. Seemed to be getting to be a habit lately. "In case it escaped you: naked, standing in the old Alma matter's ruins. Clothing? Not such a major option just now."

"Oh for... Look. I know this isn't any more your strong suit than it is mine, but _think_, jerk-off."

Xander glared at himself some more, just 'cause it was fun. Finally, "Yeah?" he ventured. "I'm thinking. I'm thinking."

"I know. I can smell the smoke. Ok, look: we are not dead. This is not the afterlife. We have not been sucked into a Hell Dimension and trapped there. Although, the hell dimension part is debatable – being stuck in _your_ head sometimes, it's hard to tell the difference."

"Hey!"

"Yeah yeah. You resemble that remark. Look, the last two times you ended up talking to yourself, where were we?"

"Uh." Good question. Xander scratched his sideburns for a minute, working at it. It'd been busy the last while or so. "Ok. Wizard Me said something about, uh, the Dreamways in between the Never Never and Astral something something."

"Ding. Ding. Here's your No-Prize. A dimension of thought and mind, full of sound and fury signifying nothing, home of tales of mystery and the imagination – hell: you read sci-fi and comics. You work it out."

"Ok." Xander blinked, and looked at himself blankly.

"Oy." Face-palm. "Buy them books, send 'em to school, and whatta they do? Eat the pencils... "

"Hey! It's been a long few weeks and I've been stressed lately, Mr. Smartass. You try getting shot sometime."

"I did." Unconscious Him shook his head, looked heavenward, sighed, and said, "Think. Yourself. Something. To. Wear." (beat) "Dip. Shit."

"Oh."

'_Well, duh. Michael Keaton has nothing on you guys._'

Xander began looking for a mental stick to beat Still Small to death with. Think our self some clothes and stuff. And get rid of the oil and grit and Mayor McSnake dust while we're at it.

There suddenly came a sudden rush of noise, like a wordless shout in a million discordant voices from somewhere out in the darkness of mental Sunnydale. Over the hills and far away, fortunately.

Unconscious Him and Still Small both whipped around, looking in that direction in a kind of still frozen panic, and said in unison: "And hurry the hell up."

He did, concentrating ferociously. And he suddenly felt a lot less sticky and gritty, and there was no longer a cool breeze blowing past his... umm, yeah.

He looked himself over as best he could. Huh. Khaki cargo pocket jeans, one of his favorite comfortable old Mountain t-shirts, the one with the snarling wolf clawing its way through the shredded front that Oz had liked so much, one of his most comfortable favorite old shirts – not a Hawaiian, but a faded stonewashed denim that Cordy had actually liked, once. And his several year old now distressed leather bomber jacket. Oh, and just because this was probably more of a run like hell than a jump in and kick the crap out of it sitch, a pair of red & white Converse high-tops still shortly enough out of the box to have that springy brand new sneakers bounce to 'em.

Xander gave it some quick thought, and, just becuz, added a broad belt with the St. Tristam broadsword, his S&W model 625 JM holstered on the other side, and the big Moeller bowie in the shoulder rig under the jacket. And, just because it's Sunnydale, he added a sharp ironwood stake about eleven inches long with a cord wrapped grip. That goes in his belt at the small of the back...

Just because and just to see if he could pull it off. He could. He tossed trusty and rusty to one side and it hit the clutter with a clanging clatter. He was not only dressed, he was alliterative, too.

"Groovy," Xander said. "Let's motorvate." Unconscious Him nodded with approval.

"Yup," Unconscious Him said, smirking. "In a time of darkness, when the world needed a hero – "

"What it got instead was _us_," Xander finished. "Yeah, yeah. I know your damned words. Let's do this thing."

They did that thing. While they were doing it, Xander glanced sidelong at Unconscious Him and said, "So. Are you one of the parts I'm supposed to re-integrate with?"

"You can't. No one can integrate with their subconscious," Unconscious Him said, then paused, looking thoughtful. "Well, maybe you _could_, but it wouldn't be good for us. Everyone needs a crap filter and hind brain."

"Huh." Xander frowned. After a moment, he said, "Can't keep just calling you Unconscious Me in my head. You need a name." He quickly aimed a finger and cut off the mouth opening to state the obvious. "And 'Xander' is already taken by the fore-brain."

"Ratz. And darn. Ok," Unconscious Him thought for a moment. "Howza bout 'Alex'?"

"Huh. You mean like kid Cordy always used to want to call us, way back when?" Xander pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment, shrugged, and said, "Works for me. What the hell – I dub thee 'Alex'. Rise and go forth to uphold the standards set by Alex's everywhere, whatever they are."

"Probably fairly low."

The million discordant voice cacophony came again from out in the night again, a wee bit closer this time, and they both jumped and looked around nervously.

"There's something else prowling around out here too, something all dark and pale and naked and creepy stealthy and hard to spot," Alex remarked. "That's what I thought you were when I almost brained us."

"All dark and pale? How's that work?"

"I just report the news, I don't write it. Just tellin' ya what I've seen."

Xander spotted an arched doorway across the decaying quad, and headed for it. "Maybe we can duck in here. Out of _here_," he said. When they reached it, it was a steel door with one of those push bar things across it. Xander reached for the push bar.

'_No! Don't go in the basement!_' Still Small said. '_Next you'll be having _sex_ in this horror movie._'

"Wonder what Cordy is doing right now," Alex said, as Xander paused with his hand on the bar.

"Probably getting a manicure and celebrating her freedom."

"Heh. You really don't have a lot of confidence in her, do you," Alex said. He frowned at the door. "Yanno? I gots a bad feeling about this."

"Thank you Obi-wan. You're our only hope," Xander said, and then paused. Hind-brain was instincts and gut feelings. Might be a good idea to pay attention every once in a while. "Specifics?"

"None. Just gut hunch." Alex shrugged. "And I gots no better ideas."

Xander hesitated a long moment, then shrugged and shoved at the bar. The door pushed open and he stepped through –

– and out into the Bronze.

The Bronze circa January eleven 1997. He recognized the place and the swirl of panicked motion and Buffy on the stage fighting with Luke, the Vessel. He recognized Cordelia Chase on the floor with her skirt rucked up over those long excellent legs attempting to crawl backward, and his old bud Jesse McNally bending over her trying to get a good grip despite her batting and screaming at him. The Bronze, circa the Harvest.

Xander Harris, welcome to your Fucked Up Life.

The soundtrack was different, though. He didn't seem to recall that the original night had had the Dingoes blaring from the speakers doing a cover of Hardline's 'Can't find my way.'

Oddly fucking appropriate though. All they needed was Brandon Lee and Powers Boothe.

He stepped up behind Jesse, stake in hand. Just like old times. "Jesse, man! Don't make me do it." _Just_ like old times.

"Buddy!" Jesse turned to Xander, smiling through his fangs. "Dude. Not bad for someone who was once an excruciating loser who couldn't get a date with anyone in the sighted community! Look at me. I'm a new man!"

Xander didn't even blink. He just stepped in and brought the stake up and in and gazed dispassionately as the shocked expression came over Jesse's face and then crumbled into dust. Then he bent over and helped Cordelia up off the floor, marveling at just how easy that was.

_Not_ like old times. Not an accident _this_ time, and no one had pushed his best friend and blood brother onto the stake. Just a simple act of Xander.

"Xander!" She stood almost nose to nose with him, scowling, the hazel eyes blazing. "The hell? He was gonna rape me! And what was wrong with his face?"

"Vampire. Really bad facial. Take your pick."

"Huh." She shook her head. Someone rushing to get out bumped into her from behind, and she stumbled up against him. He put his arms around her to catch her. "Watch the hands, loser."

Her breath caught, and then she licked her lips, hesitantly. "Well... I guess you did kinda save my life. Or something." She leaned forward toward his lips, eyes closing. Her trajectory altered partway there and the forehead pushed out, wrinkling into brow and nose ridges and the fangs came down and when they opened, the hazel eyes were yellow and lit with an inner unholy glow.

The stake came up without a moment's thought or hesitation, and moments later he was standing there with the dust of Cordelia Chase drifting through the circle of his arm as panic maddened teens rushed around him for the exits.

Ok, that was nasty. He was starting to suspect the Universe not only gave a fuck, it was malicious about it.

And horny.

Alex grabbed him by the upper arm and started hustling him past the stage and Buffy's fight with Luke toward the back exit doors of the Bronze. Xander locked eyes with Darla as they went past, and shook his arm from Alex's grasp, his hand clenching so tight around the stake that it bit into his fingers, drawing blood.

"_No_, man," Alex said, shoving him toward the doors. "Don't do it."

Xander broke the eye contact and shoved his way through the crowd to the back, pushed through the doors, and they stepped out through –

– and out into the central Hallway of Sunnydale High in the 'tween classes time with students rushing past carrying armloads of books.

Alex, still had him by the upper arm. He glanced over with concern, and said, "That wasn't her, man, it wa– "

"Shut up." Something about the tone must've registered because the mouth closed so abruptly the teeth clicked together. "Where next?" Xander looked at Alex, his face blank of emotion.

"Dunno, man. I'm following you – you're the one making the decisions and choices."

Xander squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that colors danced behind his lids, and bent his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I thought you were my faithful Indian guide or something."

"No. I'm your _subconscious_. I'm just here to help you sort and analyze this crap and provide hunches."

If there'd been another 'dip shit' attached, Xander would have killed him. He sighed, and said carefully and distinctly, "Crap." He opened his eyes. "Ok. We need a Guide. I'm not gonna just wander around through my worst and best moments and all my nightmares sightseeing." He looked around, and said, "This is a dreamwalk, right? Isn't there supposed to be a Spirit Guide or something?"

Alex shrugged, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "We're in the Dreamways. Or maybe the Dreamlands, but I hope not. Conjure us one."

Xander nodded and set off down the hallway away from the lunchroom and toward the front doors of the school. He saw enough signs and posters and other stuff to pinpoint the time and date, roughly: early April 1997 and somewhere around here, he was having or was about to have a rendezvous with a Primal Mage zookeeper and Tor and Heidi and crew and a Greater Totemic Spirit.

They went past Cordelia standing and talking with her posse, and without missing a beat, he paused, reached out and grabbed her around the waist and whirled her into his arms and kissed her senseless until her toes curled and she melted into him, moaning and hooking one foot behind his leg.

Kissing the taste of that other Cordelia's dust from his mouth...

Then he pulled back slightly, winked down into her flushed and breathless face, and whirled her back to her Cordettes and headed on his way. Leaving Harmony yelping in outrage behind them, a grinning Aura, and a shocked babble of voices and startled – and approving – exclamations from the students in that area.

"Xander?" He heard Cordelia's incredulous voice exclaiming from behind him. "Hey! _Dork!_ The _hell_ do you think you're – _Ghani_?! Wait, what _– _"

Outside he paused on the steps, looking around. Alex grinned over at him, and gave him another approving nod.

"Nice moves, slick."

"It's a dream. Do what you dream about."

Xander spotted movement off to one side, down the steps, and headed that way. Sweet fancy Moses – he recognized that movement. He grinned, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and whistled. Said movement came bounding over and up with a glisten and a jounce of long blonde hair and ears, a jangle of tags, and a happy I-don't-have-a-brain-in-my-pointy-head-but-I'm gorgeous doggy grin and dropped into a sit in front of him, holding up a dangling paw. Said doggy grin hampered a little by the leather leash held between the teeth, but not much. Not so as you'd notice.

He dropped to a knee, and shook the paw, grinning right back.

"Holy shit! Isn't that – "

"Cordy's dog, yup." Xander ruffled the ears and did the mock play fight thing with the long narrow head, got slapped at with a paw. "She always did love the big Afghan Hounds. I remember this one from when we were were kids – I think she had Ghani from like, four years old to fourteen and she disappeared after getting out one night." He sighed, "We figured out later that a monster probably got her, but at the time... "

Alex nodded. "Yeah. She was devastated and had no clue what happened."

"Hell, so was I."

He remembered the adorable ungainly half-grown puppy when they were in kindergarten. He remembered endless games of Frisbee catch and chase the ball. He remembered how the Afghan practically became his dog because his folks wouldn't let him have one, and he'd spend as much time as possible whining to go play at Cordy's so he could see the puppy. He remembered going out to Uncle Rory's place in the desert towards Ojai in the summer between first and second and second and third, and watching the big lean dog go after the antelope jackrabbits out there. An explosive burst of bunched muscle and bounding frenzied speed from the jack, and an almost effortless floating lope from the hound, looking as though she was barely moving...

Until she'd suddenly drift up alongside and there'd be a snap of those huge, leopard killing teeth; a high pitched squeal, a jerk, toss catch snap and shake and a suddenly dead jackrabbit.

He remembered how when they were doing the hating thing after that summer, from third grade on, how seriously, amazingly pissed off Cordelia would get when they'd cross paths going about town and he'd give a lopsided grin and a short whistle. And the big lean dog would drift over, all shaggy grin and bouncing hair to stand up to put her paws on his standing shoulders for an ear rub and a wrestle fight and a belly rub. No matter how much Cordy would stamp her foot and call – 'til he'd wink and send Ghani back to her furious mistress.

"So, loveable but fucking retarded, are you my faithful Afghani Guide?" Xander took the handle of the expensive leather lead from between those long ivory teeth, and stood, grinning.

He glanced over at Alex, nodding. "Lead, follow, or get the heck outta the way. Lets go get 'em."

* * *

The mind of Xander Harris was a very bizarre place, Cordelia decided.

She'd landed in the middle of Sunnydale when she'd hit on her tanned and well toned butt (and thank you for that Mr. Xander Dresden Wiseass Harris), which, honestly, wasn't all that odd considering who it _belonged_ to. Really. She was just happy Xander's imagination hadn't processed her and then dumped her in the middle of a Babylon Five episode or on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise.

Naked. Boy, Captain Dirk woulda gotten a kick outta that. Kirk. Whatever.

Of _course_, naked – Wizard Dweeb _couldn't_ have provided any clothes. He was probably giggling his one-eyed ass off right now. Jerk.

_'Wizard Dweeb probably figured that any Queen C worth her salt could land starkers in the middle of the bridge of the freaking Titanic and carry on just fine,'_ Still Quiet remarked. _'And proceed to immediately commandeer the ship and turn it the hell away from that iceberg, too.'_

Oh, crap. You're here too?

_'Whither thou goest,' _Still Quiet said, verbally smirking, _'I'm a part of you. Not only that, I'm the audience surrogate character for this movie. One of 'em. Doofus has his own.'_

Mental eye-roll. Well, make yourself useful, Surrogate. We got stuff to do, if you hadn't noticed. And, we're naked.

_'Eye-eye, My Queen. Oh, and may I just say, regarding Wizard Dwee__b__: yum. Double yum. Give Doofus boy that Sonny Crockett look and that brown leather duster, and that intensity, and you'd never have tossed him out of your hospital room after the re-bar. And __we__ wouldn't be __in__ this mess.'_

Bite me. I would _so_ have. Uh, maybe. And we'd be in a different, probably _worse_ mess. Hello, weren't you _listening_ during that conversation? And the soul-gaze? Sixteen years in a hell dimension? What's upwith that?

Still Quiet didn't deign to respond, or was probably sulking.

Ok. So... Dweeb's mind had at least dropped her in her old house in Sunnydale. Kinda.

It was a horribly distorted version of her own parents house. All of the ceilings were about six-and-a-half feet above her head, the doorways and archways towered over her, and all of the furniture was more than just slightly too big for convenient use. And the décor! She hadn't seen a lot of that stuff since she was little. And all of the clothes in her closet were way too big. Not to mention, she hadn't owned that great big Gund stuffed polar bear since she was –

– Oh. Oh! Well, duh.

Duh. Of course. It was a little _kid's_ eye view of her parent's former house. And judging by the ceilings and the furnishings, probably a kid of about six or seven.

The last time Xander had been here and been really happy, probably. A sudden pang went through her heart, and she squashed it ruthlessly.

_'The patient begins to exhibit signs of intelligence at long last,'_ Still Quiet intoned. _'Next we shall see how she responds to stimuli appropriate for the environs as –__ '_

Oh, stifle. And bite me. When I said make yourself useful, I didn't mean your impersonation of Donald Pleasance in Halloween. Help me figure out some way to get clothing, moron.

_'Yeah. I need to adjust my notes on that intelligence thing, 'cause my assessment just plummeted.'_

Huh? Now, listen _here_ you little inner twerp –

_'Queenie. Think. Jeeze. Ok, here's a clue-bat swipe: you remember that Dennis Quade movie that Dork made you watch, the one with the hokey lizard monster that creeped you out so bad even with the bad FX?'_

You mean, uh, Mindscape or something like that?

_'Dreamscape, I think, but Mindscape works too. Ok, now you got the clue. Take it into the kitchen with Colonel Mustard and get cooking.'_

Umm... it's a dream, right? Or a mindscape, anyway, because Dorkus _may_ not be asleep. So...

_'Ding! Ding! Right. Don't touch that dial. Your television is not at fault. We can control the horizontal and the vertical – '_

Yeah yeah yeah. I'm perfectly adjusted so leave my knobs alone, dammit. So basically, we can alter and shape things in here to our liking, because it's all about the mind and the will. And willpower, we have in _spades_.

_'More or less,' _Still Quiet said, sounding insufferably pleased. '_Probably not on any major stuff, because hey – it's not our mindscape, but we are in the Dreamways according to Wizard Xan, so – '_

So getting some clothes shouldn't be a major change. And maybe a weapon or two, 'cause, hey, Sunnydale.

_'Yeah. Would really __suck__, so to speak, to get eaten in the bad way by a Season 2 dream representation of Spike.'_

Season 2? What are you.. oh, never mind.

Ok. Close eyes, breathe, center self, concentrate, exert willpower. Hey, now that's kinda cool. She imagined a few added touches just for luck, and grins, and opened her eyes.

_'Hubba hubba. Ok, not what I had in mind, but it'll do. I think Dweeb probably had a few triple x-rated dreams featuring that outfit after you told him about Pylea, matter of fact.'_

No matter. Since she was never ever going to wear that thing in public anywhere that mattered. Just for giggles, she'd gone with the chain-mail and coin bikini skirt thing from Pylea, along with her crown-tiara thingy. And added a gold mesh belt she'd used to own and swiped Xander's longsword and scabbard. Along with a chromed and heavily engraved version of her Model 19 she'd seen once on the cover of one of Wesley's gun magazines. Oh, and a stake, for good measure, tucked into her gold lamé purse, 'cause, hey: Sunnydale.

She finished it all off with a pair of over the knee red leather Italian high heeled designer boots, and a calf length red velvet, black silk lined and fox fur trimmed hooded cloak. She adjusted the cloak clasp, and stepped over to the way more than full length now mirror to check the effect.

Ok, so it looked like a cover off one of the more lurid sword and heaving bosoms fantasy novels Xander used to read behind his textbooks, but it'd have the effect she wanted...

When she _did_ run into one of Xander's psyche fragments, he'd be too busy boggling and _drooling_ to give her any problems while she figure out what to do next.

_'Hey there Little Red Riding Hood... ' _Still Quiet sang. _'Snerk. Ok, I take that back: it _does_ have practical aspects. Dork will be too busy tripping over his tongue to give us any problems.'_

Men. So very predictable. And so easily controlled. Smirk.

She had a thought, frowned, and made a quick adjustment to the sword: changing the grips to better fit her hand and sense of esthetics and reshaping the pommel to match and complement that. There. _Now_ she was done.

There was a clicking of claws on marble and something came skidding through the open door of her room. Her mouth dropped open and she dropped to her knees.

And was immediately engulfed in a tidal wave of cold wet nose, long silky fur, limpid brown eyes and furiously wagging long plumey tail. And licking tongue.

Oh my gods. Well, ok, it _was_ a six or seven year old's version of home...

"Hey there, Ghani, now whosa a good girl. Huh?" She buried her face in the golden fur and felt tears streaming down her cheeks. Well, of _course_ Ghani would be here in her parents' house – probably for-_ever_. Goofball had _loved_ that dog as much as she had. Maybe even more.

Cordelia Chase stood after a long time, wiped her eyes and cheeks and restored her makeup with a blink, placed a hand on top of a narrow silky head. Ok. Girded the loins so to speak. Time to go and gather up the scattered fragments of my idiot husband.

She wrapped power around her like her cloak and set off to do just that, a tall, long legged Afghan hound pacing majestically at her side.

.

Opening the front door, she stepped out into a Southern California desert scape and almost immediately regretted it. Long diaphanous silky skirts and high heeled boots weren't designed for chaparral. She almost changed it, and decided to not – dream scape after all, it wouldn't be an issue most likely.

She turned to look around and took a step and promptly tripped on a heel and hit one knee, Ghani sticking a cold nose in her cleavage and looking up with liquid concern, wagging furiously.

Ok, scratch the most likely. When she got up, she mentally adjusted the heels to lower walking types.

Huh. Landscaping and a green, meticulously cared for – and expensively watered lawn. Trees of various types, including a few seriously old and tall gnarled desert ironwoods. Long paving stone drive leading from an arched gate to end in a circular front drive with a cactus-slash Zen rock garden in the center. Several classic cars were parked in front of the big garage along with a lovingly restored huge red-orange 1940's Dodge pickup truck she remembered almost fondly. And a long, sprawling stucco and red tile roofed one-and-a-half story house of SoCal Mediterranean Spanish revival style.

Of course. Continuing the kid theme. From first to end of second grade, all four of them had spent a _lot_ of happy times at Xander's Uncle Rory's place out near Ojai.

She headed for the driveway and the front door, a jackrabbit exploding from practically under her feet. She called Ghani to heel reflexively, the lean dog whining and almost quivering with disappointment.

Cordelia squared her shoulders and pushed through the front door –

– and almost immediately damned near caught a fist in the face.

Ghani yelped and skittered backward and Cordelia almost reflexively put up a hand and caught the blow, the fist smacking into her open palm and driving it – and her – back as her other hand came up. And everything went _white_ for a moment. There was a crash and a thud from in front of her while her vision was clearing.

She stuck her right hand out, palm up and glowing blue white...

"Whoa, Queenie!" came an unpleasantly familiar voice. "Don't shoot, it's me!"

"Gotta tell you, Faith," Cordelia growled out, "The it's me thing? _So_ very much _not_ an incentive for not blasting you into orbit."

"Uh... I come in peace?" Faith said, kind of weakly. She pushed herself erect against the wall she'd hit and slumped against, her eyes wide. "And, whoa. Man, where'd you get the Dazzler powers?"

"You _almost_ blacked my eye and cracked my cheekbone _again_, dammit."

"Hey! I've already been attacked three times by stuff. I'm a bit twitchy," Faith said, pushing her hair back from her face and holding her hands out, open and empty. Not that that was a real indication of harmlessness or peaceful intentions. Hey – vampire slayer. She could bend steel bars with those things.

"_And_ you scared my dog off," Cordelia growled. "Not that that's not maybe such a bad thing. I wouldn't want you to, like, _torture_ her to death."

"Hey! I don't hurt animals. _Especially_ not dogs," Faith said, protesting. She almost looked hurt. And kinda wounded, damn her. "I _like_ dogs, dammit."

"No, you just maim and torture _people_," Cordelia said. Faith looked even more wounded by that, damn her. And ashamed, which was worse, 'cause, hey – she _should_ be ashamed. "Faith, what are you _doing_ here?"

"Damifino," Faith said. She shrugged, lowering her hands a bit hesitantly. "Last I knew, I was asleep in my bunk, and then I was up and stepping out my cell door and into Sunnydale at night."

"Huh. Ok, so how do I know you're here," Cordelia said, frowning. Faith blinked, and Cordelia waved a hand. The one that wasn't glowing. "I mean _you_ you, not some dream fiction you. Like the last time." Faith blinked again at that.

"Ok, look," Faith said. "I'm going to put one hand in my back pocket, verrrryyy slowly and carefully. Don't, like, blast me or nothin', 'k?"

"Go ahead," Cordelia said, shrugging. "You can rip my head off with your bare hands. Not like you drawing a weapon is gonna change our status any."

"Point."

There suddenly came a sudden rush of noise, like a wordless shout in a million discordant voices from somewhere out in the darkness of mental Southern California. Over the hills and far away, fortunately. The house shook and their whole universe kind of wavered suddenly. Both of them jumped, looking around nervously.

"Think I'm gonna want to ask you about what's up with that there thing," Faith remarked. She drew her hand back out of her pocket, slowly, and flipped something glittering through the air to Cordelia. Cordelia caught it out of the air with her left hand, instinctively. Glanced down at it.

It was the octagonal trident inscribed medallion from the other dreamwalk. Shared Slayer dream. Whatever. Cordelia blinked, confused.

"Ok," she looked up and back at the other woman. Girl. Murderous slut. Whatever. It registered on her that Faith was still wearing an orange prison jumpsuit with her name and a number over one breast pocket, and 'Stockton Women's Correctional' on a tag sewn over the other. And cheap ankle high black hiker type shoes of some sort.

"You handed me this in some sort of shared Slayer dream awhile back," Cordelia said, slowly. "Or, some you did, 'cause you – she – whatever was acting and talking real weird toward me, like we were old friends or something." She was _not_ going to mention that steamy dream kiss. Not even to Xander. Not _ever_.

"Yeah. That's what you told me when you and Xander visited me a week ago," Faith said, nodding. "When you gave me that in a care package."

Cordelia blinked again and stared at her, her mouth dropping open.

"Uh huh, my thoughts exactly," Faith said. "Because as far as I know, _you_ haven't visited me, _ever_. Neither has Xan. Just wrote me a few times. Hell, last visitor I had was Angel, and that was more than a _month_ ago."

"I haven't," Cordelia said, nodding slowly. "Or at least, maybe I haven't yet."

"Wanna clue me in on that one?"

"Did you happen to have an encounter with a Xander before ending up in here? Long hair, eye-patch, Sonny Crockett stubble, tall staff with glowing runes and a long brown leather duster? Aussie hat and a big cat with a real serious attitude thing?"

"Noo... " Faith said, "Sounds sexy as all hell, though." Cordelia glared at her, and Faith held up her hands palm out, "Easy there, Queen C. Just sayin' is all. No – like I said, I was dreaming, I think, that someone sent me a big box of those Russell Stouffers, y'know, with the gooey centers? And then I got up, stepped out, and bam – Sunnydale graveyard at night."

"Huh. Ok, so, basically," Cordelia said, starting to hand the medallion back.

Faith stuck her hands in her back pockets and shook her head. "Nuh uh. I'm thinking you need that so you _can_ give it to me when you visit later. Err, earlier. Whatever."

"Huh." Cordelia nodded absently and stuck the medallion in the small clutch attached to her belt. "So. Ok, in the shell of the nut: this is a dreamscape. Or a mindscape or something. Located inside Xander's head. Which is located currently both in a pentagram in Angel's old mansion, and in someplace called the Dreamways or the Dreamlands, in between the Never Never and the Astral Realms. Where I – and apparently Xander earlier – met Wizard Xander who kissed me and shoved me into Xander's head."

"Ok." Faith looked at her and said, "So, what's next?"

Cordelia blinked at her again. "That's it? Just, what's next? No freak out, no demand for explanations or... "

"Uh, Cordy," Faith was looking at her oddly. "_Slayer_. After some of the Slayer dreams _I've_ had and dreamwalk experience things I've had since I was Called, don't nuthin' like this faze me." She shook her head, grinned, and said, "You're here, I'm here, and there's something seriously fucking scary wandering around out there howling in the night. _I'm_ figuring we're here for something important and I'm your backup. Let's get to it, huh?"

Cordelia blinked at her, again. It was getting to be kind of an annoying habit. Then again, there was something kind of reassuringly _solid_ about the so-called Dark Slayer's ability to land in the middle of complete weirdness and just roll with it, unfazed. She could almost, if she squinted at it sideways, see why another Cordelia in some other reality might become best friends with this girl.

Almost. Kinda.

Nah. No way in hell.

"Ok." Cordelia straightened, coming to a decision. Her hand stopped glowing and she lowered it. "You might want to _think_ about changing into something more appropriate. Gird your loins, so to speak."

"Uh huh," Faith said. She grinned suddenly, dimpling all over, and waggled her eyebrows at Cordelia and gave her a low wolf whistle.

"Nice outfit, by the way."

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

.


	27. I Wanna Love You -

**Chapter Twenty-four: I Wanna Love You (But I Better Not Touch)**

* * *

"_A psychiatrist asks a lot of expensive questions your wife asks for nothing."_ ― Joey Adams

* * *

Naturally, Ghani immediately went up the front steps of the school and led them inside. Like he'd said, loveable but fucking retarded.

And of _course_. The Universe couldn't _possibly_ pass up a chance to subject its favorite butt monkey to all of his worst and most hideously painful and embarrassing memories. Not in _this_ lifetime.

"What's up, Lassie? Is Little Timmy stuck in the Hellmouth?" Alex asked, grinning. Xander manfully resisted the urge to paste him one.

As they were nearing the old Faculty Room, Xander heard Buffy's voice drifting out the door. And again, of course. _That_ moment.

And exasperated huff from Buffy, followed by, "This is ridiculous. We need to talk." And followed by a rustling thump as of bodies hitting a floor.

"Been _waiting_ for you to jump my bones, Buff," Hyena Xander was saying...

There was another rustling sound and gasping, and then Buffy saying, "Get _off_ of me!"

Xander, followed by Alex and a nervously whining Ghani, stepped through the faculty door just as Hyena Xander was getting to the, "Oh yeah? Is that what you really want? We _both_ know what you really want. You want danger, don't cha? You like your men dangerous."

"Yeah, and guess who just got dangerous, yata yata," Xander said, bending over and reaching down.

Hyena said, "Huh?" and Xander hauled him up and off of Buffy by the belt and collar and threw him at the wall. He hit with a satisfying thump, face first, and –

– Spun off the wall with his fist coming around in a short, sharp arc, eyes blazing green. Xander hit the other wall with a _much_ less satisfying _thud_.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't the Whelp," Hyena Xander said, crossing the room in three long, swift strides. "You shoulda stayed in the back of my head where you belong... " He cocked his fist back, reaching out to take a handful of Xander's shirt front.

Wham!

That one came around and up from somewhere down in Baja, around and up in an uppercut that snapped back Hyena Xander's head and sent him flying into a bunch of chairs, crashing through and scattering and knocking them over him.

Xander ignored a dazed looking, wide-eyed Buffy standing there blinking with her mouth open for the moment.

"I suddenly remembered," Xander said, his eyes flashing purple. "I got balls now."

"And I'm gonna rip 'em off and feed 'em to ya," Hyena Xander snarled, rolling smoothly up onto his feet and lunging back toward Xander, hands reaching –

WHAM!

– Hyena Xander hit the floor as limp as a basket of laundry, Buffy standing over him with a faculty room desk.

"I like my men _dangerous_, not creepy. Jerk," she said. Buffy looked up, turning to face him, and her jaw dropped again.

"Hiya Buff," Xander said, waving. A slow lopsided grin spread across his lips.

"Xander?" She blinked, looked down at the floor, blinked again. "_Xander_?"

"Nice punch, Ace," Alex said from the doorway, holding Ghani's leash.

"_XANDER_?" Buffy said, once again, blinking. She sat down abruptly, still holding the remains of the desk, and probably more or less by accident atop the supine Hyena Xander.

Dropping the leash, Alex stepped into the room and walked over to stand by Xander, grinning from ear to ear. They both ignored the wreckage of Herbert's cage and the grisly pig remnants scattered around it. Ghani went running over to Buffy, snuffled at Hyena Xander once, sneezed, and then started licking Buffy's face.

"Oof! Hey! Stop that!" Buffy caught a handful of ruff and pushed Ghani away from her face, looked, blinked, and then melted. "Aww. Whosa a pretty doggy?"

"Soft touch," Xander remarked.

"Girls usually are," Alex replied.

"Oh-_kay_... " Buffy shook her head, standing. "Xander, Xander, Xander. I'm gonna assume there's some Hellmouthy explanation for this, and just let it go." She blinked again, then said, "Wait. The _hell_ I am! What the _fuck_ is going on here?"

Xander started laughing, Alex also, neither of which looked to be helping Buffy's mood. Or maybe not – after a moment her lips started twitching and then she grinned, and started laughing also. Ghani headed over to Alex and Xander and sat down in front of them, grinning doggily.

"It's a thing, Buff," Xander said, once he'd gotten himself under control. He straightened up from leaning on Alex while they were both doubled over laughing. "It's kinda hard to explain."

"Try me, Xan," Buffy said.

"No, really," Alex said. "Hero Boy here isn't exaggerating. We _mean_ a long story and really _really_ hard to explain."

Xander threw her a half grin. "Spell gone blooey. Dreamwalk. Vision Quest type mystical mind trip and you're in it. Have to find and integrate my scattered psyche. You can't help, you have things to do," he said. He pointed down to Buffy's feet, "And, Dream Me. Hyena Possession." He pointed at Ghani and said, "Spirit Guide."

"Ok, so maybe not so long and hard," Alex said.

Buffy blinked again, then said, "Yes! I was right about him!" while pumping her fist. She grinned, and said, "Ok. Are you _sure_ I can't help?"

"Naw, Buff," Xander stuck his hands in his pockets, grinning back at her. Gods – Buffy looked _so_ much happier and less exhausted back now. "You got an adventure of your own here. Need to lock him up. And besides... Dream you. You'll probably go back to my memories when I move on."

"Ah." She nodded, slowly.

Xander turned to start for the door, then stopped. "Oh, and _don't_ leave Willow alone with him. Matter of fact, keep everyone _out_ of the library with him after you lock him up. And please, keep him away from my Cordy."

"Your Cordy? As in, Cordelia _Chase_ Cordy?" Buffy's eyes widened and she shook her head. "Sorry. I thought I just heard you say – "

"– You did," Alex broke in, holding up a hand. "And that one really _is_ a long and complicated story. Let's just say... Got drunk and woke up in Vegas, married."

Buffy's eyes automatically went to Xander's and Alex's left hands, then back up, and a slow grin spread across her face. Just as blinding as the sun...

God. It cut through him with a pang that sliced through his heart just how much he had _missed_ that blinding smile over the past year or so. _Years_.

Best friend and the sister of his heart. _Not_ a first love and _never_ a lover – never was and never would be, and that was perfectly all right, he realized now. Damn, but he'd wasted so much _time_ barking down the wrong trails and chasing the wrong girl.

When what he'd always wanted and _needed_ had always been right in front of him.

Ah well. Shit happens. Suck it in and move along, soldier.

"Thought you looked older," Buffy said. She cocked her head, examining him critically, "Looks good on you," she said.

"Thanks," Xander said, nodding. "Young and happy again looks good on you, too."

"Happy a– " Buffy shook her head, holding a hand up. "No. Don't wanna know. Just one thing," she said, "Whose puppy is that?"

"Cordelia's." Xander grinned at her one last time, winked, and they left.

And stepped out into a whole 'nother world...

* * *

"So, what's goin' on here?" Faith asked, "Got any clue?"

Cordy glanced sidelong at the other woman. Faith, with just a word of coaching, had changed into one of those leather and Kevlar type motorcycle rider suits, like the cafe racers wear. And a tall pair of strappy buckled and laced steel toed Harley-Davidson boots. She had a short sword and dagger on the belt buckled around her hips, a stake thrust through it, and a double headed battle axe similar to Xander's in her left hand.

"Not sure. Just know... this is one of the places we were all really happy as very little kids," Cordelia said, shrugging. At Faith's curious glance, she added, "Xander's Uncle Rory's place out in the desert near Ojai. He was an amateur slash semi-pro taxidermist back then. Fascinated me as a kid."

"Ah," Faith said, nodding. They stepped through the open archway into what should have been the great room and was the converted garage workshop instead.

Rory was bent over the work table with a needle and thread in one hand and a jeweler's loop screwed into his eye. Working on something and looking the way that kid her remembered him: kinda like a sixty-ish Powers Boothe if you squinted a bit. Six-ish year old Willow was sitting on one of the high back bar stools watching with a half-disgusted, half-fascinated expression. Xander was watching quietly in fascination. And little six-and-half, going on seven Cordy and Jesse were leaning in, excitedly asking questions, with a Ghani curled up on the floor by Xander's stool, snoozing.

A barn owl, Cordelia remembered suddenly, that someone had apparently hit with a car and they'd found still fresh, and her and Xander and Jesse had dragged it excitedly back to Rory's, Willow trailing along behind protesting and going eww. The summer between first and second grade.

"I think we were about six and a half here. Willow and Jesse six. I so wanted to be a taxidermist when I grew up – freaked Mother out. I was such a little tomboy back then. Daddy said it was just a phase," Cordelia said. "Used to come out here all the time as little kids. Shoot .22's, hunt arrowheads and fossils, catch snakes and lizards and desert mice. Jesse caught a bunch of tiny frogs once after a freak summer rain and chased Willow all over until she was gasping and crying and Rory caught him and made him stop. _Freaked_ her out for years." Cordelia shook her head and sighed, watching the little group. "Summers, holidays, weekends sometimes, like on the Fourth of July. Up until after the summer between second grade and third."

"Oh? What happened then," Faith asked, curiously.

Cordelia shot her a look, her face blank. "I got bitchy and chased them all off so I could hang out with better friends."

She led the way across the room past the work table and out the other door, and they stepped out onto the half-screened porch at the back of Xander's parent's house.

There was again, a small cluster of little kids versions of all of them in the backyard, this one including a little Aura wearing a pair of designer looking overalls and a red shirt. Xander's dad was with them, still wearing his suit where he'd probably just gotten off from work, looking half gruff and half bemused. Xander's mom was off to one side, grinning and looking enchanted.

"Xander's folks. His dad was – is – a petrochemical chemical engineer. He... used to be really great. Then Xander's mom got pregnant and had a miscarriage real late in her second trimester that almost killed her. And then Xander's little sister vanished, which in _Sunnydale_... " Cordelia swallowed hard, shook it off, and continued, "He... _changed_ after that."

Faith nodded, and Cordelia leaned against a pillar, watching. "I _think_ we were about seven here. I – "

Willow squalled and started chewing out Jesse, and then Xander, and Cordelia suddenly knew what was going on. She was holding a Malibu Barbie and Jesse's school play wise-man robes suddenly registered on her. And Xander' little brown good suit... Oh, gods.

Faith watched from beside her as the little drama played out, her grin getting wider and wider, and her dimples deeper and deeper.

"Oh. My. God! You and Xander got _married_ as kids?" She looked like she was going to go into spasms watching as a very serious little Xander leaned in to kiss a small Cordelia after putting a ring on her finger.

They could clearly hear a very young Cordelia, smiling just as wide and bright as she could, say, "Cool! But I want a _real_ diamond!"

"Oh my gods," Faith said, laughing. "You guys were adorable."

"Oh, shut up," Cordelia said, feeling humiliated.

Just about then, that hideous cacophony of babbling howling voices came again, with a crash, and the world jerked around them and wavered. They both jumped again, and looked at each other, eyes wide, Ghani whining crouched down by Cordelia's feet.

"Damn. You say that thing is some sort of what, eldritch horror thing that followed you guys here from Angel's?" Faith asked.

"Yeah," Cordelia said, nodding. "And it seems like it's getting closer? C'mon."

She led the way into the house through the kitchen door and they stepped out _elsewhere_ again. Her Ghani rejoined them on the other side.

.

They continued like that for a while, scene to scene to scene.

Easter vacation at Cordelia's family's lake cabin at Lake Cachuma, riding horses and fishing off the end of the dock down by the boat house...

Running at the head of the Seeonee pack in Miller's Wood behind Cordelia's house, the five of them – with Xander as Bagheera to her Phaona, Aura as Raksha, Willow as Baloo, and Jesse as Mowgli. Plus with Jesse's Aussie and Ghani filling the role of Akela and Grey Brother as the only really wolflike ones among them.

The five of them again, with wooden swords and cap pistols, and Ghani, playing John Carter in the desert by Rory's place. Xander as John Carter to Cordelia's Princess of Mars... Flashing blades and radium pistols under the hurtling moons of Barsoom.

And again, with .22's and air rifles, hunting the Horned Serpents of Venus as Carson of Venus and his Moon Maiden, Princess Cordelia. Ghani had actually been fast enough to snatch the heads off of the big desert Diamondback rattlesnakes in mid strike, she remembered...

Jack-a-lopes and Rodents of Unusual Size along the Blanco Lobo where it ran at the edge of Rory's property, playing the Princess Bride. Xander's Dread Pirate Westley with her Buttercup and Jesse's Inigo Montoya, outwitting Sicilians and battling the Six Fingered Man and his minions.

Harmony getting shot in the butt while they were playing Four Musketeers, and her whopping Jesse one and running off crying...

That spring Renaissance Faire where Xander and Jesse ran into her and Aura and at the middle of a heated argument (what other kind, between them?) and bet Cordelia that she and Aura couldn't hang out with them for a full day and not enjoy themselves...

Kindergarten when Cordelia accidentally snapped off Willow's yellow crayon while they were arguing over who got to use it to color their sun first, and Willow started bawling. And Jesse and Xander came over and Xan gave Will his yellow crayon. And Xander _was_ a stupid name and he really _should_ be an Alex...

That fifth grade carnival at the fairgrounds when they were eleven, where Xander bet her that he could _too_ win her a stuffed dog at the shooting gallery, and tried and tried. And she smirked and stepped up and won it on her first try...

Xander eating too much ice cream and cake and throwing up in her pool when that clown freaked him out at her birthday party, and her shoving him in after it...

Jesse getting a humongous crush on her after she started getting boobs and trailing along after her like a puppy no matter how mean she was to him...

Xander making her fall over laughing by acting like a doofus what with standing upside down on his skateboard and trying to drink a coke, when her current boyfriend had dumped her...

Them arguing and fighting and learning formal dancing together that summer after her Daddy made her start taking lessons...

Xander dumping chocolate milkshake all over her new – brand _new__ – _formal gown while trying to steal a kiss and her breaking his nose. She _really_ hadn't meant to hit him so hard...

Chad Everette shoving Xander inside of a locker after he sprained his wrist, and their second string pitcher lost them the Little League game. And her slugging Chad in the gut so hard for it that he threw up on her shoes and she came unglued all over Xander for it. And slapped Jesse brainless for laughing, not that _that_ was difficult...

Getting stuck together at some boring thing their parents were doing and playing anywhere but here while the grownups drank and did whatever...

That party at Aura's where her so-called friend had invited _Xander_ for some reason – oh, they'd dated that year, it was seventh grade, duh – and _Cordelia_ had ended up getting stuck with him during that stupid spin-the-bottle game and oh, _my_. Unpracticed, but she could see – and feel – where he got the raw talent for that basement kiss in Junior year.

Thirteen and the summer between seventh and eighth. Xander's dad had won that Hawaiian trip on some work thing, and they'd decided to make it a joint vacation with Xander's Uncle Frank's family... _Cordelia's_ dad had insisted on taking her to Honolulu with him rather than letting her spend the first part of the summer with her cousin in Malibu. Ending up stuck at the same freaking hotel with Xander and his idiot cousins, and Wendie flirting with him and making out with him all two weeks they were there.

Wendie had always insisted, half teasing, that Cordelia had been jealous to death of that, and she so was _not_ and never _had_ been...

Talent show in the seventh grade where they got into a huge fight, and she kneed him in an, err, sensitive spot, and Mr. Steinbeck made them do a duet together as punishment, rather than sending them to the Principal's Office. And they did a deeply passionate, mutual seriously heartfelt hatred inspired version of "Red Rubber Ball" together...

That summer day at the Sunnydale Coves beach by the Palisades between seventh and eighth when Aura and Harmony stood her up for some boys, and Jesse and Willow stood up Xander for something, likewise... and somehow the two of them had ended up hanging out, swimming, surfing, doing Frisbee with Ghani and talking together and eating corny-dogs and ice cream until sunset... and oh, my, _gods_ – where the _Hell_ did he ever learn how to kiss like that _Aura_ never said he could kiss like that when she dated him and –

Cordelia looked on silently as her fourteen going on fifteen year old self stood at the gates of their house, biting her lower lip and watching with anguished eyes as an equally young Xander slumped dejectedly and ambled away down the driveway. Away and _out_ of her _life_ for the next two years. Nearly forever. And then turning back to the gate to go inside...

She had to bite back an impulse to _scream_ at the two of them, for her idiot younger self to call him back, dammit, or for _Xander_ to turn _around_, and look _back_, you moron –

– And did not.

'_Can't go making changes in Idiot Boy's head,_' Still Quiet said, sounding as anguished as the younger Cordelia had looked. '_No more than we can help, anyway. __He's screwed up enough as it is._'

Cordelia nodded, feeling numb. Right. Can't make him worse.

"Damn," Faith said, softly, shaking her head. "That's messed up."

Cordelia ignored her, and followed Ghani to the next scene. Scenes...

Sunnydale riding stables in their last Junior High summer with Xander copping a feel while helping her mount, and dancing back laughing when she tried to kick him... while Jesse did the same to Aura...

And then making Aura's mouth fall open when Xander did that thing where he could rein that big buckskin Saddlebred around in a tight circle, and then back it up with no hands and his arms folded over his chest, and half rear and then crow hop sideways...

"Wow. Like Roy Rogers or something," Faith said. She blinked and shook her head.

"He was always good at that sort of thing," Cordelia said. "Like, _total_klutz on the ground, but somehow, he could _ride_ a horse. _No_ idea where he learned that. He never would say."

"Man. I never had a childhood like that," Faith said, her voice sounding oddly wistful. "Never had much of a childhood, neither." The corner of her mouth curled up in an odd half smile, and she said, "Never had a guy I loved to hate like that either."

Cordelia _really_ didn't want to hear about the childhood – or lack thereof – of the psychopathic murdering skank, thank you. Didn't want to know what kind of traumas were back there. Sure, Faith probably had to have one – something had to twist her all up like that. But Cordelia didn't have to _care_ about it.

She just shrugged and said, "He always could make me angrier than anyone I ever met. C'mon."

They stepped through the side door of the riding stables –

– and out into Hell.

* * *

"I was fucking terrified when we found her face down in that pool," Xander said.

"I know. Me too," said Alex, nodding.

They'd just finished watching dream Xander brace Dead Boy in his apartment mope and force him almost at cross point to lead them both down into the Master's tunnels and help Buffy.

Xander was starting to get a feel for where Ghani Spirit Guide dog was leading them. So far, while not necessarily helping him find the points he needed to integrate, all of them shared one common thread. They were all pivotal points in his life, post Buffy's dramatic entrance. All of them things or experiences that had helped to shape him over the course of the past six years into who he was now.

Whoever the hell that was.

Back and forth, following the hyena possession incident and the aborted almost rape of Buffy. The Master's lair. Parent Teacher Night and Angel trying to fake feeding him to Spike, without warning him first. Bug Guy and heated fighting argument kissing and coming close to damned near hate-fucking with Cordelia in Buffy's basement, before they broke apart. Their little trip through nightmare vision lane when Billy had made everyone's worst dreams come true. That had been interesting: he'd gotten to see Cordelia's worst nightmare of the time period. The Bezoar thing where she'd knocked him cold and been about to feed him to mommy Bezoar...

He hadn't integrated with Hyena Boy. That kind of bothered him... he'd thought that was what he was here for, and that there'd have been some sort of dramatic flash followed by a merging when they touched. But... nothing. And he didn't understand why.

They went through the exit from the Master's tunnels, following Angel and Buffy up and out, and stepped right into Chris and Daryl and their little Build-a-girl project. Xander watched as his earlier self gave up on hunting for a knife and wheeled Cordelia's gurney out through the flames all around them.

Damn. Looked a lot more impressive from out here than it did when he'd been doing it from inside. He'd started carrying a pocket knife after that. Religiously.

And they stood by and watched as his idiot younger self stood there smirking and complaining to Will and Buffy about how they'd never ever get dates, while Cordelia stood by trying to get his attention and said:

"Xander? I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. What you did in there was really brave and heroic, and I just wanted to tell you if there was anything that I could ever do to... " all big impressed eyes and heaving bosom and flushed face and shining lips.

And his idiot younger self said, "Do you mind? We're talking here."

When Cordelia jerked back her head looking like she'd been slapped, huffed, rolled her eyes and headed off, Xander intercepted her away from the group.

"Xander... ?" Cordelia blinked at him and glanced back at the group, turned back, did a double take and looked again, and turned to him, her mouth falling open. _"__Xander?"_

He shut it by pulling her in and giving her the deepest and most sensuous kiss he'd _ever_ laid on anyone, and stepped back and grinned at her when she melted into it and her knees wobbled. And then winked and walked off, leaving her staring and going, "But but, uh, but – but... _Xander_? Wait, _Ghani_?! But – "

"You're really enjoying doing that, aren't you?" Alex said.

"Yup."

"Don't blame you." Alex grinned, shook his head, and ambled along next to him on Ghani's other side. "But what happens if you get back and all of your memories – and Cordy's – are changed. and, oh, I dunno, you guys never broke up in twelfth grade?"

Xander shrugged. "Burn that bridge when we come to it."

They stepped through a gate leading out of Chris and Daryl's and straight through into the Sunnydale Museum of Natural History where Ampata had just closed the stone coffin lid on Buffy, and Giles and Willow were running in.

"Damn. I really liked her," Alex remarked.

"Me too," Xander said, nodding. "This sucks."

They watched as younger Xander pulled Willow away from the Inca Mummy and pushed her to the side and stepped between her and Ampata, and said, "You want life? You're gonna have to take mine. Can you do that?" Xander – older Xander – felt frozen with dread at what was coming. Every fiber of his being was _screaming_ at him that one of _his_ girls was in horrible pain and anguish and fear, and about to do something irrevocable.

Something that had had him waking up in a cold sweat for years afterward, watching it in his sleep over and over again...

Damn near petrified, he watched Ampata consider, her expression agonized, then a panicked look come into her eyes as she re-mummified up to her neck and said, "Yes!" in a strangled voice.

And Xander stepped up and clouted his younger self across the back of the neck, dropping him unconscious like a sack of bricks, and pulled Ampata in and kissed her...

He felt life and energy flowing out of him, and drew on the Orbs of Nezzla'khan back where they were tied to his body in the diagram in Angel's basement and, considering, on the stuff of the Dreamways and the Never Never where he'd been speculating they'd been tossed when the spell swallowed him up.

It's all about the _intent_, Tara had said. And he had _intent_ coming out of his ass right now. Eww. Intent, visualization, and will. And what the hell. Alternate Reality Him was a freaking _Wizard_. He wrapped it all up, all of the pain of watching her die the first time, the hope, the regret; wrapped it all up in love and magic and visualization and imagination and need and dreams –

– Wrapped it all up in will, and _intent_, and visualization of what he wanted and drew on the stuff of dreams and _pushed_... and there was a bright flash of purple white light and a white purple tinged glow radiated out from somewhere and surrounded them and went down into and _through_ the kiss; life and love and desperation and laughter and how to eat a Twinkie and pain and loss, but mostly love and want and _need to _–

He was kind of vaguely aware of Buffy shoving the stone sarcophagus open and her and Willow's voices going, "Xander?" and Alex saying something to them.

It seemed to go on for ever, and then it ended and he was stepping back. Ampata opened her eyes slowly, looking up at him with her lips swollen and shining, and she put a hand to her mouth, her eyes going wide and amazed.

"Xander?" Ampata said, blinking as she looked from him to unconscious him and back.

"Xander?" Buffy grabbed him by the shoulder and tried to yank him away. She blinked and looked shocked when he didn't move.

"It's all right, Buff," Xander said, still kind of half smiling at Ampata, or whatever her real name was. He cupped Ampata's cheek with his hand, then pushed her hair back from her face before turning away toward Buffy. "I don't think the life sucking thing's gonna be a problem from here on in."

He grabbed Alex by the arm, turned and pushed past Buffy and Willow and walked out of the museum door with Ghani beside them, listening with half an ear to the sudden babble of comments and questions and babbling protests, Willow yelling at him to stop and come back, and his younger self groaning and coming back to consciousness...

"Uh... how did you know that that would work and not kill you?" Alex said, when they'd landed on the other side, boggling.

"Hadn't a single clue," Xander said. "But sometimes, you just gotta say 'oh, what the fuck' and jump."

* * *

Something cracked past her head with an eerie whine and Cordelia dropped, eyes wide and her voice saying, "Holy fuck!"

Faith was flat beside her, her eyes equally wide. "Holy shit!" she said. "This ain't kiddie stuff no more!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Cordelia said. She raised her head just slightly, looking around as best she could.

Hopefully without getting her idiot head blown off.

There was a tank burning off to the side and away off in front of them. A Thurman or something. One of those World War II things, anyway. Closer to them, and a bit off to the right, there was an another burning tank, some sort of open topped thing she had no clue about. A man in fatigues just jumping down from it, the big top machine gun swinging wildly on its post mount thing.

It was dark and there were bodies all over, as far as she could see.

Shells screamed overhead and there came thumping impacts from farther away. Smoke was everywhere, practically, foul, oil smelling stuff. And gunfire. Lots of it. Bullets cracked by overhead with that eerie supersonic whine...

And Cordelia Chase had never been so freaking terrified in her whole entire life.

"Miss. And Miss," a man's voice was saying and a hand was pushing her down. "You can't _be_ here – it's not safe."

"Gee, what was your _first_ clue?" Faith said, sounding just as scared and shaken as Cordelia felt. A shell impacted somewhere close by, and Faith shrieked, throwing her arms over her head.

Cordelia might have enjoyed seeing and hearing that if she hadn't been about to crap herself.

"C'mon," the voice said. She felt a hand under her arm, pulling her up, and then they were running like hell, flat out and past the burning open topped tank.

It exploded as they got past it, flame shooting out of where the turret used to be, and the turret flying upward and off, tumbling through the air. The man's hand shoved at her, finally after what seemed like hours of running, and she went tumbling into a ditch.

He jumped in after her and spun to face back the way they'd come, clutching a rifle.

Cordelia looked around wildly. Faith was also in the bottom of the ditch, looking almost as panicked as Cordelia felt. Ghani was pressed up against Faith's leg and hip as tight as she could go, paws over her head and whimpering.

Cordelia didn't blame her.

The man fired a couple of rounds back over the edge, the shots sounding impossibly flat and loud, and then slid down to where they were. "Ok, we're clear for a minute." He shook his head, "Ma'ams? Where the hell did you come from? Pardon my language, please."

"No fucking problem," Faith said. The man threw her a quick flash of grin and Cordelia stared at him.

"Xander?" She said, blinked, shook her head and blinked again. Damn. "_Xander?_"

It _was_ Xander Harris. But a much shorter Xander, maybe five foot five at the max – near Jonathan short – with a slightly rounder, younger face and with the most incredible startling blue eyes she'd ever seen on anyone. Damn. He looked like he was still seventeen. Maybe sixteen.

He was wearing a uniform, sort of like the one from that Halloween, but with a Sergeant's stripes and chevrons. And badges and patches all over. And dirt and smudges, tears and mud. _This_ uniform looked worn and lived and fought in. He was holding a rifle, one of those long wood stocked older style ones with a long boxy magazine under it. And a tied down pistol belt with a holstered six-gun and a big bladed Bowie knife in a scabbard.

Oh, and the sword. The St. Tristam one, slung over his back.

"Cordelia?" That damned half grin spread across his lips. She felt like decking him. He blinked, and glanced quickly over to the side at the others. "And Faith. And Ghani?"

"Hey there, Boytoy," Faith flashed him a grin, and said, "Not that I'm not all up for playing catch-up and twenty questions, but you mind if we get somewhere the hell _else_ first?"

"Good idea," he said, and Cordelia couldn't help but nod wordlessly. He grabbed her by the arm again and pulled her up, and they ran like hell down the ditch, bullets cracking overhead.

Finally, after running through the dark for what seemed hours but probably couldn't be, they left the set of Battle for the Bulge or whatever behind them and reached some quieter woods. Quieter and with less gunfire. And no dead bodies. Soldier Xan led them to a rubbled building and they fell into it through the remaining door and collapsed against the wall.

That weird multi-voiced cacophony scream came again, sounding somewhat closer this time. Everything jerked, and the world wavered again, just slightly. All of them winced.

Cordelia _had_ more than half expected another scene shift when they passed through the doorway, but nothing happened. Still in WWII Land, dammit. Ghani whined and pressed into her side.

"Ok. Cordelia? What are you _doing_ here?" Soldier Xander said. he glanced to the side, his eyebrows going up. "And with Faith?"

"Came in for you, dumbass," Cordelia said, exasperated. "That freaking spell dragged you in and swallowed you up and spit you out somewhere the hell and gone in the Never Never."

She hauled off and belted him on the closest arm. "And just what the _hell_ was _that_ all about back there?"

"Ow! Dammit," Xander leaned his rifle up against him so he could rub the impact point. "Battle of Holtzwihr. France. Jeeze, Cordy."

Cordelia was vaguely aware that Faith blinked from the other side of the corner where they were sprawled, her mouth opening and shutting silently. "_Don't_ you 'Jeeze Cordy' _me_. Jerk," Cordelia said. "Came here to _save_ your sorry ass, _not_ get my head blown off."

"And my sorry ass thanks you," Soldier Xander said, smiling at her with that lopsided half grin that always melted her. His voice was odd, too: a kind of a soft vaguely Southern drawl, kinda like Fred's only without the twang. He looked over at Faith while Cordelia was pondering that and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Hell if I know, Xan," Faith said, shrugging. "Was dreaming, stepped out, and next I knew, here I was and Cordy was blasting me into a wall."

Xander nodded, and Faith looked around, looked intently at him, and then to Cordelia. "Uh, mind cluing me in here, C?"

Sigh. "Soldier Boy, meet Faith. Although it sounds like you know her already," Cordelia said. "Back in, oh, Halloween '97, Ethan Rayne came to town, enchanted a bunch of costumes, and sold some of them to the group. Before you got here. And Xander went as Soldier Boy here and kept some fragments of the memories."

"Ah." Faith nodded, still studying Soldier Xander with a kind of peculiar intensity. "Explains a few comments I heard."

"Surprised no one told you the story," Cordelia said, "I keep forgetting how much a part of us you weren't."

Faith winced, and did that quick hiding of a wounded look again.

Soldier Xander shrugged, and said, "All fairness, Cor, we didn't really go out of our way to make her a part of us." Faith shot him a startled and an almost grateful look, quickly hidden.

"Yeah, whatever," Cordelia said, looking away. She was not going to feel guilty or sympathetic for Miss Sanity Fair '99. Not. "Anya sent me in to find your parts and finish integrating you, and Wizard you threw me into your head. Guess Faith came along for the ride."

"Ah."

"And I'm thinking if that's the case, then you need to tag along with us," Faith said. Cordelia shot her a startled look, then nodded.

It made a certain weird sense.

The cacophonous shriek came again, along with the jerk and the wavering.

Soldier Xander winced along with them, and looked around uneasily. "There's something else skulking around here, too. Kind of humanoid, almost like a woman. Dark and kinda pale, with like bloody stripes and matted dreads."

"Wait," Faith said, blinking. "Kinda like a hunching black woman, with white clay rubbed all over her? And a loincloth and weird knife?"

"Yeah," Soldier Boy nodded. "You seen her too?"

"Not here," Faith said. "In other dreams. Slayer dreams."

"Huh." Cordelia blinked at that one. Something oddly familiar about that, like something she'd heard or seen only third or fourth hand... she shook her head. Later. "All right. We need to get moving and find a door."

Soldier Xander nodded and they all got up.

Faith suddenly blinked again, and straightened, giving Soldier Xander that intent stare again. A slow, ginormous smile slowly spread across her lips.

"Holy jumping fuck!" Faith's voice was hushed and excited. Eyes shining like a kid on Christmas morning, jeeze. "You mean to tell me Boy Toy's Soldier Boy is Audie Fucking _Murphy_?"

* * *

.


	28. Take Me Tonight to the River -

**Chapter Twenty-five: Take Me Tonight to the River (And Wash my Illusions Away)**

* * *

"_I'm working under a great handicap... no talent.__"_ ― Audie Murphy

* * *

He wanted to pull her aside and kiss her ditzy ass brainless again, but he didn't. He wanted step in and strangle Buffy's ditzy ass, but he didn't do that either.

Xander just watched as Buffy finished dry humping younger him on the dance floor at the Bronze, her eyes locked most of the time on Angel's jealous and miserable ones, and then broke off, grabbed her jacket and stalked out of the club.

There was a brief frozen moment when Xander actually felt for Angel. It passed.

And there was a brief frozen moment when Cordelia stood staring after Buffy, her mouth hanging half open. Then she shook her head, closed it, and her eyes flashed and she stormed out of the Bronze after the shorter girl.

And they were standing outside watching as Cordelia called out, "Buffy." (beat) "You're _really_ campaigning for bitch-of- the-year, aren't you?"

Buffy turned to face her, sneering. "As defending champion, are you nervous?" she asked.

"I can hold my own. You know, we've never really been close," Cordelia said. She tossed her hair, continuing, "which is nice, 'cause I _so_ don't really _like_ you that much, but... you have on occasion saved the world and stuff, so I'm gonna... do you a favor."

"And this great favor is... ?"

"I'm gonna give you some advice. Get over it," Cordelia said, standing almost nose to forehead with the blonde Slayer, looking down at her.

"Excuse me?" Buffy's eyes widened.

"Whatever is causing the Joan Collins 'tude, deal with it. Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever, but get over it. 'Cause pretty soon you're not even gonna have the loser friends you've got now."

Xander shook his head, watching as Buffy flipped up her hood and turned on her heel to stalk off with a sarcastic, "Nighty-night," tossed back over her shoulder. Vampires came and grabbed Cordelia and dragged her off.

"And people wondered why I loved that girl," Xander said, staring after them. "I never knew she did that."

Alex looked at him sharply. "Not gonna do anything?"

"It'll work out," Xander said, shrugging. "Don't want to take a chance on screwing it up and getting Cordy and Willow killed."

They followed Ghani's lead to the library where they watched as younger Xander threatened to kill Buffy if anything happened to Willow.

Then, in quick succession: Halloween and a quick stolen kiss between Soldier Boy Harris and Cordy, followed by a ringing slap, before they had to run out into the night after Princess Useless Buffy. After the bug man when their discussion in the empty classroom degenerated into an argument and another heated lip-lock. Cordy helping him steal the rocket launcher, following his brainstorm in the library. The heated clinch in the armory, after the guns, sex, and linoleum conversation –

Cordelia promising him little bath toys while she thought he was a Creature From the Black Lagoon monster –

His younger self shoving her behind him and screaming at her to run when Drusilla and her minions invaded the library during Acathla, right before they broke his arm –

Watching Kendra die, all over again.

He almost stepped in there, but he didn't want to risk doing something that might screw things up with Faith even worse, just in case Alex's comment about changing things had merit. Hey – subconscious, instinct, and hunches. Gotta credit 'em.

And maybe it didn't and wouldn't have done anything at all. Except that it just hurt watching it all over again.

But he was really glad, then, that he'd stepped in and stolen a bittersweet kiss from the mocha-skinned Jamaican girl between her showing back up and that. Because _no_ fifteen to sixteen year old girl should go to her death without the memory of a kiss on her lips...

Even if it _did_ come from a beat up knight in bumbling armor. And keep your damned Angel comparisons to yourself, thank you.

And it _still_ hurt like hell watching it all over again –

– As did watching as a smirking Angelus broke Jenny Calendar's neck, and seeing the rerun of all of their shocked and stunned reactions when Giles found her corpse in his bed.

The Lie, and watching Buffy go in knowing she was going to kill her vampire boyfriend, and her sending Angel to hell. And the long Nighthawk summer spent hunting vampires while Buffy was off running away and playing waitress.

That had apparently impacted him and Cordy a lot more than he'd remembered. Xander wondered where that impact had vanished to after Buffy's return...

And _still_ no closer to figuring out this integration thing. And the horrible eldritch horror scream had come six more times with the accompanying world shake and waver. And still Ghani led them on, apparently knowing where _she_ was headed, at least.

Faith and her stories, and him making wise ass comments about the naked slaying and naked alligator story as much to tease Cordy and watch her eyes flash as to flirt with Faith.

And the confrontation at the hospital with Angelus as Buffy lay sick practically to death beyond him

Alex wondered out loud, "Ever figure out why Angelus didn't kill us?"

"No clue. To this day, I am un-clued."

Alex shot him a sidelong look. "Could ask Angel."

"Nah." Xander shook his head. "It's the kind of thing you don't ask another guy."

"And we're not sure we really want to know, anyway," Alex said, nodding.

And then...

Willow and the tux and the clothes fluke. Chalk up another of Xander Harris' seminal bad moments in history.

He _still_ had no clue what had been going through his mind to do that. Or if his mind had even been engaged at all.

Watching Faith wreck Scott Hope's evening, and noticing once again how downright beautiful she looked in that prom gown. He remembered once again that he'd lost a little piece of his heart to her that night...

This time, he got a voyeur's view of the conversation in the cabin between Buffy and Cordelia and a sobbing, freaked out Cordy telling Buffy, between sobs, "I'm never gonna be crowned Homecoming Queen. I'm never gonna graduate from high school. I'm never gonna know if it's real between me and Xander, or if it's just... some temporary insanity that made me think... I loved him. And now I'm never gonna get the chance to tell him – "

Alex noticed his expression, caught somewhere between heartbreak and amusement at the 'Chia Pet' comment, and said, "You ok there, bud?"

"No," Xander said, quietly. "But I will be."

Seeing Cordelia face down Lyle Gorch and thinking, 'That's my girl.' Homecoming after Buffy and Cordelia had both lost the Homecoming Queen crown and seeing again a muddy, torn, and mussed, and bedraggled Cordelia in her dress and thinking she'd never looked hotter. And remembering being terrified that she'd find out about the fluke. Her putting up a hand to younger Xander and walking off after, when he tried to talk to her, and him then following.

They'd at least half seriously been discussing going all the way after the dance and ceremony was over. Instead, he'd ended up taking her home in a cab and giving her a kiss at the gate. He'd always wondered what would have happened if they'd gone ahead and gone through with it instead...

He really, _really_ didn't want to be a spectator at the re-bar incident, but Xander had a depressing feeling he was going to be.

There was serious doubt in his mind as to whether or not the Universe gave a flying rat's ass what he really wanted. Xander suspected it didn't.

The cacophonous shriek from the eldritch horror and the world shake and waver promised to make that a hideous reality.

* * *

"Audie Murphy?" Cordelia blinked, almost as much at the tone of near reverence in Faith's voice as at her comment. "The actor?"

Faith's turn to blink at her, her mouth working silently for a moment. "Audie Murphy, Cordy. Most decorated soldier in World War II? Holder of the Medal of Fucking Honor? And something like thirty something medals just from the USA, and France and Belgium? Hell, for all I know, fucking _Germany_ gave him a medal after the war."

"Oh-kay... " Cordelia said, slowly. "And he was an actor too, right?"

"Yeah." Faith said, sounding disgusted. "And he was an actor, too. Cowboy movies."

"Um. Not exactly, ma'am," Soldier Xander said. Both of their heads snapped around to look at him. "And there were a lot of guys who _didn't_ come back who deserved the medals a _lot_ more than me. Him. Whatever."

"Not exactly?" Cordelia said. "How do you not _exactly_ dress as a war hero? By accident?"

He shrugged, "Xander dressed as a kind of a generic soldier that Halloween."

Faith's eyebrows went up, and her expression was frankly disbelieving.

"Uh. Seriously," Soldier Xander said, spreading his hands apart. "Honest injun." Cordelia's eyebrows went up, too. She'd known Xander long enough to smell a rat when he was being evasive but not quite lying.

He glanced at her, and half smiled. "Ok, so Xander saw 'To Hell and Back' probably a half dozen times. And had just finished reading the book version the summer before, plus Uncle Rory had all that WWII stuff and used to tell you guys all the stories. But," he said, "He also had tons of other war movies and books and comics in his head, too."

"So, wait," Cordelia said. "Now I'm confused. You mean Xander kind of went as an a... a... "

"An amalgamation of all that, yeah," Soldier Xander said. "Mostly Audie Murphy, yeah, but also Sergeant Rock, Kelly from Kelly's Heroes, Where Eagles Dare, Apocalypse Now, Full Metal Jacket, Iwo Jima, Chuck Norris, Heartbreak Ridge, Platoon, Elvis Presley from all those stupid Tom Parker movies... "

While he'd been speaking his form wavered and shifted, becoming taller, taller and broader, pot bellied, leaner, bearded, clean shaven... and then back to the short blue-eyed Soldier Xander again.

"All a jumble from John Wayne to Eastwood to Norris to Murphy and back again," Soldier Xander finished, shrugging. "And the previous owner of the surplus fatigues, too."

"So, basically, this spell..." Faith started, then shook her head, blinking, and finally continued, "Took all of that and mixed it up and came up with... "

"Corporal Harris, U.S. Army Rangers, yes ma'am," Soldier Boy said. "Magic works by _intent_, according to Tara, and since Xander made his own costume and just used the toy gun and fake dog tags, it just grabbed everything it found and jumbled it all up and mixed and matched to fulfill the _intent_ of Ethan's spell, and Xander's _intent_ when he dressed up."

Cordelia stared, unable to formulate words for a minute. Finally, she shook her head. "No _wonder_ Xander is so _amazingly_ screwed up," she said.

"All jumbled up in there, yes'm. Got more than the kid bargained for," Soldier Xander said. "Makes for some _really_ weird nightmares, too."

"I'll just bet," Faith said, looking impressed. Probably at finding someone even more messed up than she was, Cordelia figured.

The eldritch horror shriek came while they were talking, along with all that went with it, and they glanced around nervously.

"Let's get a move on," Soldier Boy said.

* * *

It got worse and worse. Sure 'nuff, Ghani led them to Spike's desolate factory and they got to watch Cordy turn to run and fall through the rusty, decrepit stairs to her impalement. And then to the hospital where they once again experienced the heartbroken Cordelia sending younger Xander away from her bedside.

And her agonized tears and wracking sobs once she was alone.

Xander watched that asshole John Lee cut Cordelia to the quick without a thought, and thought about cutting the idiot's throat with the big Moeller bowie, but didn't. He watched Anya show up, and Cordelia's ill advised wish that, "Yeah, I swear! I wish Buffy Summers had never come to Sunnydale!"

And he _watched_ the Wish World unfold this time, he and Alex...

And they watched as Vamp!willow and Vamp!xander shoved the book cage door closed with Giles inside and locked it, Vamp!xander holding a struggling Cordelia up against him, his other hand over her mouth.

When his evil fangy twin lowered his head towards Cordelia's neck, he stepped in and slid the stake between his vampire self's ribs from the back before the teeth hit her skin. Smooth as butter.

Ashes hit the ground and Vamp!willow spun in shock, backing away and glaring at him.

"I'm gettin' kinda tired of killing demons wearing the faces of my friends," Xander drawled. "But not all _that_ tired." His eyes flashed dangerously with a purple light and she turned to run –

- right onto Alex's stake and exploded into a shower of dust.

"Me, I'm not tired at all. Fact is, it just _never_ gets old."

Alex folded his arms and watched, smirking, while Xander gently pulled a wide eyed and probably deeply in shock Cordelia to him and slowly, gently, kissed her until she turned into butter and moaned into him. Stroking her hair, he pulled back, looking down into those hazel eyes with a half smile.

"Xander!" Cordelia shook her head dazedly, somehow not managing to remember she was hurt and blazing-to-hell angry with him. "What- how- those- you were a _vamp_ire! Jerk. And now... "

"Shhh.. " Xander said, kissing her again, slowly. He pulled back again, reluctantly, finally. "All you need to know is this: I'm an _idiot_. And I'm deeply, irrevocably in love with you, and I always have been and always will be."

He stepped away; left Cordelia wide-eyed and stuttering, going over to the book-cage and then unlocked and opened it to let Giles out.

A shocked, baffled, and plaintive sounding, "Wait, and- and, _Ghani_?!" trailed him all the way to the book cage.

"G-man," Xander said. "Break that fucking Wish, like, post-fucking-haste. The name you need is Anyanka. Vengeance demon. Break her power center. Cordy can tell you about the pendant." He whistled Ghani back and away from where she was snuffling and tail thrashing a dazed and blinking Cordelia, and jerked his head to the doorway.

Giles stood there gaping at them as they turned to go, crossbow and stake dangling forgotten from his hands. "Uh, Xa-xander? Xander Harris? Who... I d-don't understand."

It was Alex that turned back, winked at Cordelia, and said, seriously, "Call us the cavalry, Giles. Sometimes we _do_ come over the hill in the nick of time."

"Xander? And, uh... Xander?" Cordelia blinked at them, and then stamped her foot, her eyes flashing. She tossed her head, and glared at him. "Alexander LaVelle _Harris_. Don't you _dare_ smirk and walk away from me again without explaining yourself! You hear me?"

Sighing, Xander shook his head, smiling gently at her. Still drinking her up with his eyes, he shrugged, and said, "We're not really here, Cordy. It's a dream walk through the worst memories of my life – even the ones I wasn't present for, apparently."

"But, then... " Cordelia huffed and gestured at him and Alex and Ghani, and the two piles of dust. "How? Why? Uh... "

"Some things, you just can't stand by and watch, I guess," Xander said, still smiling. "I love you. One of these days, you'll realize this. You'll probably never ever know just how deeply sorry I am about all of this... And I – we – _really_ have to go now."

"Wait! Take me _with_ you!"

"Can't," Alex said, shaking his head. "Don't know how that'd work, but it'd probably _really_ mess things up."

Sighing regretfully, Xander nodded. Wrenching his gaze off of Cordelia with an almost soul deep effort, he turned and strode to the door, Alex and Ghani trailing along behind him.

And _stopped_.

Xander spun on his heel halfway to the door, and walked back, hands in his pockets, Ghani padding at his side. He looked up into the taller, older man's eyes for a long moment before saying, "And, Giles? Take care of her, willya?" He turned to go and half turned back again after a few steps, "'Cause, y'know? Cordelia gets hurt and I swear on Two-faced Janus that I will _find_ a way to come back, and I'll get the biggest, heaviest book in your collection, and I'll beat you to fucking death with it."

He smiled again at Cordelia, drinking her up with his eyes, winked, and turned away again.

Over his shoulder at the doorway he tossed back, "Because a vague disclaimer is no one's friend."

.

"Sometimes you're the dog, and sometimes you're the hydrant," Alex said, watching as their younger self was shoved out the door of the Downtowner Motel in his boxers by a smiling Faith wearing a sheet and nary a blush.

"We seem to be the hydrant an awful lot back now," Xander observed.

"Well, you know what they say," Alex said, "An unexamined life isn't worth living."

"Ok, what did you do with my Evil Twin, and who are you?" Xander said, staring at him.

"Hey – _I'm_ the one who stayed awake in Lit while _you_ were snoozing," said Alex, smirking. "I gots all kinds of crap stuck away in here. Want me to quote Steinbeck at you?"

"No. I don't really want to know about the rabbits, George."

Ghani led them to the school and, since Xander already knew by heart what was going on downstairs, they leaned against the frames of the broken in doors and watched as Buffy, Faith, Willow, Giles and Dead Boy fought the Sisterhood of Jhe and the Hellmouth monster. Ducking on occasion when a hurled demon or a tentacle came too close for comfort.

No doppelganger with Vamp!willow coming across due to Anya trying to get Willow to retrieve her power center. Instead, it was Michael Czajack and a shivering, freaked out naked Angel with whip and knife scars all over him. And Xander wondered if it was them staking his vampire self and Vamp!willow that made the difference...

They came to the night of Balthazar, and they watched as Buffy threw Alan Finch to Faith and Faith staked him, Buffy calling out just a second too late. And watched as Faith freaked out and came back and freaked out some more and tried to dump the body.

After awhile, Ghani led them back to the Downtowner, and they saw younger Xander go in to talk to Faith, banking on the 'connection' they shared.

"You really don't want to do that, Faith," Xander said, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her back and off his slowly suffocating younger twin. He threw her at the wall, his eyes flashing purple, and she hit so hard the windows rattled and she left a Faith shaped dent in the Sheetrock and studs. "'Cause auto-erotic asphyxiation? I've found it's not my thing."

"And _you_ aren't needed, Captain Hairgel," he said, coming around to point a finger at Angel, standing frozen in the doorway with his Louisville Slugger and a stupid look on his face. Said stupid look probably prompted by the fact that Alex had been standing flat against the wall beside the doorway and now held a sword's edge to Angel's throat and a stake to his ribs.

"Who the _fuck_ are you two, and why the hell _don't_ I wanna?" Faith snarled, coming out of the wall in a shower of plaster dust. She took a wild swing, and Xander almost let it hit him, amazed at how easy it was to sidestep compared to some of the vamps he'd fought.

But then again, Faith was pissed _off_ all to hell and gone, seeing red, and probably a wee bit out of sorts after smacking back of the head first into that wall.

He blocked the second blow with his right forearm, and popped her on the chin with a short straight left that had every single ounce of strength from the Orbs and all of the pent up anger, shame, guilt, and frustration he had left over from that night in it. She hit the wall again and went down in a boneless heap, like a marionette with its strings cut.

His younger twin came off the bed, red faced and hacking and coughing, and raspily said, "Ok, I'm gonna second Faith's 'WTF Over' here?"

"You," Xander said,"Don't sweat it for now. Ask Deadboy later. Go home for now, and try talking to Faith tomorrow, if she'll let you."

Younger him looked him dead in the eye for a long endless moment, then gave a jerky nod. "Well, if I can't listen to me, who can I listen to?" the teenaged Xander said, and gave him a slow half grin.

Current Xander threw the unconscious Faith over his shoulder in a fireman carry, and jerked his head at Angel to clear the door. "C'mon, Forehead Man. We need to talk, and we need to get the hell out of here before the Council and their goons show up." (beat) "I don't need to kill anyone else right now."

Alex lowered sword and stake and the three of them got, him and Angel and his Evil Smirking Twin.

Oh. And the dog and unconscious Faith.

.

"Are you sure that was such a good idea?" Alex said as they were leaving Giles' apartment, Angel and Faith staying behind with a shocked and babbling Giles. Interesting sight that, babbling Giles. Angel wasn't in much better shape, and a puzzled and baffled Angel was _always_ funnier than hell.

"Can't hurt," Xander said. "And it probably won't change a damned thing," he said. "But it sure the hell made me feel a lot better."

"Just askin'. 'Cause you're starting to rack up a lot of changes in here, bud," Alex said with a shrug.

"Hey, all I'm changing is adding new memories," Xander said. "And it's what I would have done if I'd been able to that night. But even if it was changing more, I think Faith's too far gone right now for it to help." He thought for a minute. "But at least Wussley won't try to kidnap her tonight."

They watched from a roof across the street as a stabbed Faith threw herself off the roof of the apartments below hers, landing with a limp crash in the bed of a truck full of junk heading down Wilkins Boulevard in order to rob Buffy of her blood to feed to Angel.

Xander couldn't blame her. The idea of feeding a human to a vamp, _any_ vamp and _any_ human, didn't sit well with him. And Buffy's premeditated action in going after Faith with a knife had always struck him as being just a tad bit too close to Faith's own actions for his comfort zone.

He was starting to feel unutterably weary and sick at heart, too. Bad enough _living_ through all of this, but going through it again, all in a row and on fast forward, was pure Hell on earth.

Xander noticed at some point that there was a definite lack of Dawn in all of these scenes. It actually took him several long deliberate minutes of thinking about that to puzzle it out.

Maybe Still Small and Alex's comments about his lack of brain power weren't so far off the mark...

He _had_ known, intellectually, that Dawn hadn't _existed_ yet prior to the encounter with Dracula or shortly after. But it took this _seeing_ it like this, in vivid Technicolor, to drive it home on a gut level.

Xander mentioned as much to Alex and got a shrug and a head shake in response.

"We're seeing your actual memories, Chief," Alex said, "The unaltered ones. Apparently, Ghani ain't leading us to and through the ones the Monk's spell edited."

Xander stared at his Subconscious Twin for a long moment, then at Ghani, and then back up again. He shrugged as well, and said, "With the little we really know about mind magic... you'd think that memory alteration on that scale would be a major part of the fragmentation."

Alex shook his head, looking baffled. "Maybe seeing the unedited ones is a major part of the defrag, Boss."

"Maybe?" Xander gave him the baffled look back, in spades. At least he hadn't gotten another 'dipshit' out of it...

"Man, stuff like that is above my pay grade," Alex said. "Ask Tara when we get back. Ask a shrink. Me? I am sans clue, and without clue bat."

Xander didn't like it, but he had no choice but to accept it. He shrugged again, and moved on.

"Huh." Alex began... he shook his head and continued, "Keys unlock things, right? Maybe _here_, on _this_ level, the effect is to unlock the real ones?"

Xander stared at him again, and then a slow half grin quirked at the side of his mouth. "To steal a paraphrase from a certain wise ass of my acquaintance, it's above my pay grade." The half grin went fully broad and lopsided. "And to steal one from Soldier Boy: if you can't eat it, smoke it, shoot it, or fuck it, then piss on it."

Alex laughed, "And then move on."

They did that thing.

Eldritch horror thingy kept making guest appearances, vocally, and the sudden earthquake shake, shimmer, and wavering of reality got a bit worse every time. Evil in the air and a thunder in the sky and a killer haunting the bloodshot streets, way down in the valley tonight, indeed. Xander shuddered and hoped like hell that thing never caught up to them.

Apparently not a lot that was life altering or of prime character shaping importance had happened to him in the fall/winter of '99 and the spring/summer of 2000. Ghani only led them to a few scenes there.

Notably, they hit a few high points of Xander's summer road trip from hell, the Cave Beer Buffy incident, Anya dropping her clothes to the floor in front of him in his parent's basement, and the cutesy wootsey itsy bitsy fear demon, Gachnar, and Anya and Giles rescuing him.

Also notably, when she came out of the coma _this_ time, Faith paid a late night visit to his basement room and pushed 'another taste' on him before changing bodies with Buffy and splitting town. Causing him no _end_ of grief with Anya afterward, but what the hey – _Faith_. Hell, _Anya_ woulda hit that if she'd been there.

What the heck. They intercepted her as Faith was heading back up to her old apartment, and the three of them had a rather memorable, uh... fade to black.

Sometimes, you just gotta say what the fuck.

And then scream and leap and do it. So to speak. And as it turned out, auto-erotic asphyxiation was _Faith's_ thing. One of them, anyway.

And then they hit ADAM and the enjoining spell and the fun filled chamber of horrors after...

* * *

Ghani led them from scene to scene for awhile. Xander Harris, this is your screwed up life. And mine and Xander's screwed up romance, Cordelia thought.

The eldritch shriek came again, and they shivered and kept moving on.

They watched the fluke unfold, up in Willow's bedroom. Cordelia strode on with her lips compressed to a thin straight line after that, not speaking, for some time. They watched the end of the Homecoming dance and Xander taking a bedraggled and muddy Cordelia home in a taxi and dropping her off, getting a half hearted kiss, followed by her calling him back and nailing his lips with an almost desperate hunger.

"We'd been talking about going all the way that night," Cordelia said. "Ever since Buffy's Dead Man's Party bash with the zombies. Kinda half joking, kinda half serious. But I was so wrung out and messed up and exhausted after the Slayer-fest thing that I just couldn't... "

She shook her head when Faith started to say something, and the look in her eyes must have been forbidding, because Faith just closed her mouth again and walked on beside her.

Finally, she turned and faced Faith, looking the slightly shorter girl in the eye.

"I hate you, you know," Cordelia said, seriously and quietly. "More than Willow. You took what I'd wanted more than anything, our first time, and crapped all over it." Faith started to speak and Cordelia held up her hand. "Don't. Just... don't." She turned on her heel and walked on.

There was screaming and cackling, barking laughter from up ahead, and they broke into a run, Ghani pulling against the leash.

They came upon a scene from some teen horror movie: Xander, Heidi Barrie, Kyle DuFours, Tor Hauer, and Rhonda Kelly on top of the Anderson's Jeep Cherokee, shaking it and trying to break in. The screaming was coming from inside, and Xander looked like he was thinking about breaking a window.

Soldier Xander raised his rifle and triggered it into the air above the hyena kid's heads, and it went off with a flat, dull roar like the trump of doom. Cordelia winced, as did Faith, and all of the kids threw themselves off of the car and hit the ground rolling flat.

All except Xander.

_He_ looked towards them, his eyes flashing green.

And then there was a sudden blurring ripple and a four legged, hulking _thing_ was crouched on the roof of the Jeep, buckling it in. It was huge and black-brown, with a striped white ridge of longer hair bristling up along the spine like a Rhodesian Ridgeback from Hell, and black and white markings on the legs.

It had more teeth than an orthodontist's convention, which it bared in a rippling snarl that shattered the windows of the house behind it.

Heyna Thing launched itself off the dented in roof of the Jeep towards them and Faith launched herself to meet it.

"Don't hurt it!" Cordelia yelled to Faith, and slapped the barrel of Soldier's rifle upwards as he leveled it on the beast. "Shoot _them_ if you have to," Cordelia snarled, waving an arm at the rest of the pack, where they were spreading out to flank and surround them.

Soldier Boy nodded, and, moments later, another ear shattering report cracked out and Kyle crumpled in mid-leap and dropped like a rock. Rhonda howled in anguish and dropped to her knees beside him.

It hit Faith like a freight train, or tried to. She slipped to one side, getting an arm under its forelimb and yanking upwards and back, throwing it with her full body to hit the ground almost back by the Jeep with a thud. It rolled fluidly to its feet, and slapped her rolling to the side with a paw that had suddenly grown longer and taloned fingers. And then it put its head down and came for them on knuckles and rear feet, half erect and blurringly fast.

Ghani yelped, and tried to turn herself inside out getting out of the way. Not a cowardly dog, ever, but some things were just too much for canine nerves. Cordelia sympathized.

She drew in a breath, took a long step forward to meet it, stuck her hand out, palm up, and yelled, "_**S**__**it!**_" in the most commanding tone she'd ever come out with, while pointing down at the ground with her other forefinger.

Everything stopped.

Hyena thing put on the brakes so hard it damned near broke in half.

It came to a screeching halt, wet nose and bared teeth just touching Cordelia's upraised palm, and its front feet plowing furrows in the ground and kicking up dirt clods.

"_Sit_ stay!" Cordelia looked hyena thing dead in the eye, glaring. "Down!"

Faith looked at her incredulously, with her eyes open wide in horror, as if expecting her to become Nabisco shredded Queen C any moment now. Soldier Boy covered Tor and Heidi and the wailing Rhonda, but Cordelia could hear him gulp nervously beside her.

Hyena thing stuck its nose forward just a bit more, pushing at her hand. It dropped its muzzle slightly and growled between bared teeth.

Cordelia smacked it on the nose like a piddling puppy, dropped her hand and stepped up, nose to nose with it, and glared it in the eye.

"Don't you _dare_ look at _me_ in _that_ tone of voice, Alexander _LaVelle_ Hyena Boy Harris," Cordelia snarled back at it. "I came all the way into your idiotic head to _rescue_ your sorry ass. Now you just back the _hell_ up and behave, or puppy goes to the vet. Get me?"

She made snipping motions with the fore and middle fingers of her other hand.

A long, endless moment passed, and then hyena thing lowered its head and whined, pulling in its fangs.

"That's better," Cordelia said. "Whosa good doggy?" She reached up and rubbed the shaggy muzzle.

"_Cordelia?_" came an incredulous shout from behind them. "Wait – and Xander?"

"I got this, Buffy," Cordelia called back. "Back off."

"Day-um, Queenie," Faith said, shaking her head and walking over to them.

Behind Hyena Xander-thing and the rest of the pack, the Andersons scrambled out of their Jeep and ran for their house, screaming. Buffy came running up.

"Ok, so, what the heck is going _on_ here today?" She said, glaring at Cordelia, Faith, Soldier Boy Xander, and Hyena Thing equally. "First," she said, gesturing expansively, "Xander comes barreling in and saves me from Hyena Boy Xander who was getting a bit too frisky, if you catch my drift. And now... "

She ran out of steam, and huffed, blowing bangs out of her eyes.

"I just want to know what's going on," Buffy said, plaintively, almost whining.

"Wait," Faith said, "You've seen Xander already? Another one, I mean."

"Yeah. _Two_ of them. Like, right after _he_ got done eating Herbert the Pig, and _they_ got done eating Principal Flutie," Buffy said. "And, wait – who the heck are you? Why are _you_ dressed like something from a- a fantasy book cover, Cordy? And what is – " she pointed, "Other Xander here doing _shooting_ people?"

Sighing heavily, Cordelia leaned up against Hyena Xander's monstrous shoulder and explained the whole thing, carefully editing out any mention of her marriage to idiot boy Harris. And without explaining exactly who Faith was or naming her.

While she was doing that thing, Sunnydale PD and a meat wagon and ambulance came up and loaded up Kyle's body to haul away. Tor, Heidi, and Rhonda ran off as soon as the sirens and flashers came screaming in. The four police officers – two per car – took a long look at their little group, and even longer one at Hyena Thing and Soldier Xander's rifle, and edged carefully away from them, got back in their cars and drove off. Without a single word.

Meanwhile, after she finally decided that the hyena thing wasn't going to eat them, he and Ghani sniffed noses and butts, wagged tails, and did doggy greeting things while Cordelia talked and Buffy asked questions.

"Oh-kay," Buffy drawled, finally, looking dazed. "This one is going into my already full books of Sunnydale Weird. Right at the top."

"Don't worry, Buffy," Cordelia said. "You'll surpass it easily before the year is out."

"Gee, thanks ever so for that uplifting infomercial, Cordy," Buffy said, throwing up her hands. "I give up. You: take _him_ and get outta here while at least some of my sanity is still intact. Me? I'm going after those others, and then I'm gonna go home and break into Mom's liquor cabinet and get a stiff shot of bourbon. Maybe two."

Faith snickered, and Buffy favored her with a wry grin. "And you're a Slayer that hasn't been Called yet?" Faith nodded. "Good luck. Yer gonna need it," Buffy said. She waved and jogged away, shaking her head and muttering under her breath.

Faith stared, snickering again, and then she started laughing. Finally, she sank down onto her haunches, and then onto sitting on her butt in the road with her arms around her knees, howling with laughter.

"Hoo boy," she said finally. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

Cordelia looked at her, her lips twitching at the corners. Finally, she turned on her heel and said, "Let's move. We're wasting dream light." She snapped her fingers to Hyena Thing. "Heel!"

* * *

.


	29. I Wanna Hurt You -

**Chapter Twenty-six: I Wanna Hurt You (Just to Hear You Screaming My Name)**

* * *

"_I find it very easy to be philosophical about personal discomfort. As long as it's somebody __else's__ personal discomfort, of course.__"_ ― Walter Slovotsky

* * *

A doorway and shift or two later, Hyena Thing rippled, blurred, and shifted, changing into a form that looked like a cross between the Xander she knew and Lon Chaney as the Wolfman. With the Wolfman makeup designed by Wes Craven, 'natch. But it was an improvement over having a pony sized dog thing trotting alongside.

He was wearing what Xander used to call his 'Teenage Hoodlum Rebel Without a Clue' outfit, and then he'd half smile oddly and change the subject. Dark jeans, white t-shirt, Harley boots, and the black leather motorcycle jacket that always hung in the back of his closet and seldom came out. And when it did... Buffy would shiver a bit and look away.

Cordelia understood that now. Completely.

At least now he could talk. And after a bit, he shifted more and went to an Elvis looking Xander, gelled duck-tail, smirk, and mutton chops. And green eyes.

Ok. That's two, she thought, looking at Soldier Boy Xander and Hyena Xander walking side by side, talking amiably in low tones.

_'And we know the real Xander is in here somewhere, if Buffy's account can be trusted,'_ said Still Quiet voice. _'And, wow, is Hyena Boy a bit intense or what?'_

Shrug. Buffy's account can be trusted. I can feel it. And: oh, hell yeah. Intense as an Espresso high colonic.

_'Heh. Faith damn near creamed when he went all Elvis Xander. Almost as bad as she did over Audie Murphy Xan.'_

She _so_ did not. And, eww.

The three of them went on, Cordelia, Faith, and the two Xander fragments, through the endless days and scenes of Xander's screwed up life. _Their_ screwed up lives together – Cordelia was seeing all over again just how entwined she and Xander's lives were with each others, all through the years and even when they weren't together. As much as, and maybe in some ways, even more so than he and Willow...

The _four_ of them: Ghani was an integral part of the team here.

Chris and Daryl Eps and their little Build-a-girlfriend project, and Xander frantically attempting to untie Cordelia from the gurney before giving up on it and pushing her out screaming through the rising flames... walking through freaking fire for her. She'd never realized before that that was the point after which he'd started carrying that little lock blade all the time, and the catalyst for it.

Crestwood college and the demon worshiping frat boys. The snake demon. Jesse's loss and death in the tunnels, and the horrific realization that he'd been turned. That nightmarish scene at the Bronze on the night of the Harvest, that Cordelia had blocked out for so long. Standing watch over Buffy at the hospital during the superflu, and the confrontation with Angelus. Ampata the mummy girl, and the horror of her unmasking and death in front of Xander's horrified gaze...

The Order of Teraka and Buffy's basement, and that _kiss_.

Faith took on a peculiar smile upon seeing that, and Cordelia wanted to strangle her for it.

"Okay," Faith said, drawing a sidelong look from Cordelia. "I'm kinda lost here. Where's Dawn through all of this?"

"Oh." Cordelia shook her head. Not exactly the question she'd expected. Opening her mouth to answer, she hesitated, and then gave a mental shrug.

Faith, assuming she was really here and not some dream figment, had been drawn into all of this for a reason, damn it. No point in having a resource, and not using it, nor in crippling it with a lack of information.

She could always blast the killer Slayer into little Faithy bits later, if needed.

"It's complicated," Cordelia began, and got a look from Faith that had 'duh!' stamped all over it. "Can't believe that Angel didn't fill you in."

"Let's pretend he didn't," Faith said, "On account of it's not pretending, and move on."

"Right." Cordelia nodded, and tossed her head, flipping hair away from her eyes. "Xander had to explain a lot of this, when he and I were getting caught up on all the stuff I'd missed. And I'd caught some of it when Willow showed up at the hotel to tell us about Buffy's death... and at the memorial, later."

Cordelia explained as best as she understood the situation, only going into as much detail as needed.

Faith shook her head, looking disgusted. "Man. That's all kinds of screwed up. So basically, these monk guys made Dawnie out of some sort of mystical energy, and then shoved her into everyone's heads?"

"Yeah," Cordelia said, nodding. "In a nutshell. So Buffy would protect her from that Glory bitch."

"Huh. Nothing against Dawn, 'cause I always liked her," Faith said, scowling, "But I don't really like people screwing with my head and my memories."

"Yeah. It's kind of like rape," Cordelia said, nodding, "Only without all of the messed up sex parts and the violence."

"Word."

Onward and inward. Ethan Rayne's little Halloween surprise, that had brought Soldier Boy into being. The love spell, running for their lives from Xander's crazed female admirers, and the other confrontation with Angelus and the mad Drusilla. Buffy's attempted seduction of Xander, and Xander turning her down... The swim team and Cordelia's impassioned 'little bath toys' speech to what she had thought was fish boy Xander. Kendra's death, and Xander throwing himself between Cordelia and two vampires with a broken arm...

The Lie, as Xander had called it, complete with capital 'L'.

Now that Faith had called attention to it, Cordelia could almost see a ghostly afterimage running alongside of the mindscape they were wandering. Life _with_ Dawn, shadowing life without...

More pieces of her husband's messed up psyche. No: more than just _Xander's_ – even without Tara's admonitions, Cordelia knew enough about mind magic to know that that couldn't be good for any of them. And it really explained a lot about the mess that the Scooby's had become after Graduation. But she had no clue what might be done about it, if anything.

"I think I've figured some of this out," Faith said. Cordelia looked over and raised an eyebrow. "We're getting the highlights of stuff that had, like, a shaping impact on Xan. And on you. Mostly traumatic, like him having to stake that Jesse kid."

"Gee, that's a news flash," Cordelia said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

"Hold up, Cordy," Faith said, holding up a hand. "Wasn't done." She frowned, a small 'v' forming between her eyebrows. "I think Xan – the _real_ Xan – is paralleling our trip, just kinda, whatchacallit... outta synch with us."

"Oh?" Cordelia thought about that for a minute, then nodded reluctantly. "Makes sense," she said. "So we need to synch up."

"Uh huh," Faith said. "Where I was headed. If or when we're done with the Xander version of the It's a Wonderful Life tour." She scowled, and added, "But I'm not sure about the two Xanders thing B mentioned."

"Think we got a handle on that," Hyena Xander said, reaching down to scritch Ghani between the ears and getting a doggy grin and a full body tail-wag. Jeeze, her freaking dog even loved the Xander _fragments_.

"Do tell," Faith said.

"Way back we had a Dreamways encounter and chat with an embodiment of our subconscious," Soldier Xander said. "Call him Alter-ego Xan. Id Xand for short, maybe."

"You don't talk much like a soldier," Faith remarked, "Or like I'd picture, anyway."

"Psy-ops classes," Soldier Xan said, shrugging. "You wouldn't _believe_ how many psyche courses Rangers get. Plus Escape and Evasion and Interrogation resistance training."

"I don't like Id Xan," Cordelia said, frowning. "Sounds too much like 'Idiot Xander', and only I get to call him that."

"Other, then. Or Alex. Or... " Soldier Xander spread his hands, "Whatever makes you happy."

"_None_ of this makes me happy," Cordelia grumbled. Faith shot her a sympathetic look, and nodded.

Ghani led them through a gap in a hedge, and they stood in a cave and watched as Xander was tossed to one side by a hideous blue skinned demon woman, while trying to help Buffy and Faith. And got put down for his efforts.

"I don't recognize this," Cordelia said, frowning.

"I do," Faith said, quietly. When Cordelia looked at her, she shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Coming up on Night of the Jhe Demons."

"Ah."

Ghani led them along, and they reached a point where a furiously battling Faith, one arm hanging limply by her side, was getting her ass handed to her by a Jhe Demon woman. And then there was a roar of a big engine, and that blue '57 Chevy of Xander's uncle came blasting in, tires squealing, and smashed the Jhe bitch to one side all broken and rolling. Damaged Faith jumped in over the passenger door.

Shift again, Ghani leading them through the hole in the fence smashed by Faith's losing battle, and they were outside the Downtowner Motel, then in.

Eww. Cordelia had never seen this place before. Well, she had, but not seen it in connection with Faith, or thought about it that way. And eww again. Nasty, nabby, desolate place. And they'd _left_ her here, a _Slayer_... or at least, Giles and Buffy had.

Cordelia did her best to ignore the parody of lovemaking going on in the bed, Faith watching avidly with an... odd expression.

And it was over, and they were laying there, and Xander was stroking Faith's arm and looking at her with such... tenderness that Cordelia wanted to scream. And then outside again and watching as a sheet clad Faith shoved a boxers clad Xander out the door holding a bundle of clothing in his hands.

Cordelia turned on her heel and stalked away, her face frozen. The others followed silently, even Hyena Xander all quiet and looking stone faced.

A number of paces away from the motel, Cordelia whirled on Faith, her eyes snapping sparks and the other girl stepped back hastily.

"I don't get this," she said, in a very quiet, very controlled and deadly voice. "I really, really don't. You're going to have to explain it to me, Faith."

She took a deep breath, fighting for control, and won the battle. Just barely.

"You had a guy that would have risked his _life_ for you – _did_ risk his life for you. _Twice_." Cordelia's voice was still soft and very dangerous sounding, even to her own ears. "And you got something precious, and you threw it away and made some... " she paused, hunting for words, and finally said, "Cheap locker room _joke_ out of it.

"And all it would have taken was a word, a touch, even a _hint_ of feeling," she said, "And he'd have been yours for life. I don't get it. _Tell_ me _why, damn you_."

The last few words came out in a strangled hiss, and Faith flinched from every single one.

"I can't, dammit," she said, finally, looking miserable and everywhere except at Cordelia.

Cordelia stepped forward and grabbed her by the arm and yanked her around until their eyes met and locked. "Don't give me that," she said. "I really want a good answer here. Because if I don't get one, I may have to burn you down where you stand."

"I don't have one!" Faith yelled, yanking her arm out of Cordelia's grasp, and whirling to stalk away. She turned back, pushing her hair back and away from her face with both hands. "Don't you think I've thought about it? While I've had nothing the hell else to do in that cage?"

"No. I really don't think you've given it that much thought at all."

"Well, I have," Faith snarled, stalking back to to glare eye to eye with Cordelia. "And all I can come up with is that he scared me."

"He _scared_ you?" Cordelia's voice rose to a strangled shout, her eyes widening. Ghani whined and crouched by her legs. "You threw him out naked on the street and later almost strangled him slowly because he _scared_ you?"

"Hell yes," Faith yelled back. "I know what the hell you guys thought about me back then. But I _really_ didn't sleep with as many guys as you thought. Or as I made out. And Xander looked at me and he was promising for-fucking-ever in those damned brown eyes, and I _freaked!_"

Cordelia blinked, and Faith leaned in, nose to nose with her. "Yeah, me," Faith said, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. "Big bad Slayer. Psycho Slayer. Slayer slut. I wasn't fucking girlfriend material. I just wanted a quick roll for fun and games and I kinda _liked_ Xander. And he saved my _ass_ earlier that night, so hey – hero's reward, right?"

Faith stepped back abruptly, growling low in her throat. Cordelia blinked, then said, just as quietly whispering, "So he scared you, big deal."

"Yeah, it fucking was, Cordy," Faith said. "You don't get it. I was hanging on by my teeth and fucking toenails to _anything_, any scrap of what sanity I could find and I could _feel_ myself sliding down the fucking edge. I wanted a roll in the _sack_ to take the edge off, and instead I got for_ever_ shoved in my face, from a kind of a nice guy I just couldn't fucking believe in. _Twice__ – _and the _second_ time he threw me a _lifeline_ I couldn't believe in."

"So you fucked him and tried to kill him."

"Yeah. Didn't start out that way," Faith said, suddenly sounding tired. "At first, I just wanted to scare him – see how serious he was. And... it all went out of control."

"Story of your life, huh?" Somehow, that didn't come out as sarcastic sounding as Cordelia had wanted it to. It came out kind of quiet and thoughtful, pieces suddenly clicking and falling into place, and she _hated_ it.

"Oh, _fuck_ yeah," Faith said, and let out a strangled laugh that sounded just this side of hysteria. "I watched my Watcher tortured, raped, and murdered slowly right in front of me, and got away and ran here with a bad-ass killer vamp on my tail for help. And I got Buffy and _Giles_ instead. And Wesley fucking Pryce. All downhill from there. You want to talk about fucked up? I was _sixteen_, Cordy." She laughed again, and said, "Got away, hell. Kakistos _let_ me go – so he could _chase_ my ass."

"I never knew," Cordelia said. "And it's not an excuse."

"_Hell_ fucking _no_, it's not an excuse. But it sure as hell is a reason." Faith slumped, shoving her hands in her back pockets and looked at her. "And why the hell are you so mad? _You_ threw him the fuck away _first_."

"Because that's my fucking _husband_ you threw away and nearly killed, you fucking dumb-ass murderous cunt!" Cordelia screamed at her, her hands curled into fists at her side, and a slow, white glow staring to build around her body.

"Oh."

And Faith looked so... so blankly _dumbfounded_ by that, that it let all the steam out of her all of a sudden and left her just exhausted. And aching.

"Yeah. Oh. Married the idiot, finally. And my idiot husband is _in_ here somewhere, and if we don't get him back and put him back together, that damned _thing_ out there is going to break in past Wizard Xan and kill him and all of us." Cordelia slumped too, all of a sudden. "And I don't want to let that happen, because Xander wouldn't let that happen to me. _Didn't_ let that happen to me."

"We'll get him back, Cordy," Faith said, quietly.

"Sure."

"We will. I _owe_ him. And I always pay my debts."

"Yeah." Cordelia took Ghani's leash in her hand and turned on her heel and walked away, too tired and hurt and frustrated to talk about it anymore.

* * *

Ah. There _was_ something majorly seminal in his life that year, Xander thought as they watched the final battle against ADAM, the killer demon cyborg from Hell. But it was something that you probably couldn't find in any single episodic event, so he didn't really blame Ghani for not leading them there.

Some things, you just gotta figure out for yourself.

It was that sense of alienation that hit him and _stuck_ all of that year. Hit all of them – how they grew so far apart, and let go of all the things that made them click and work through all the years before. Even when they were pissed at each other, and even when they hated each other, they'd always stuck together before. It was a kind of strength.

'_The fragmentation started with Cordy, if you think about it,_' Still Small said.

Huh. The thought was startling in how startling it wasn't, Xander thought. How do you figure?

'_Think__ about it,_' Still Small repeated. '_You and Cordy crashed and burned, badly. Willow pulled way back away to get Oz back, and you and her have never been as close again since. Buffy started pulling back and away from both of you then, also. It started with the argument at Dead Man's Party, and then with the confrontation over Angel when all of you ganged up on her... but it really accelerated after that. And then... _'

We had the big blowup around the time of the Jhe Demons, and briefly, Buffy went all 'Let's make Xander fray adjacent' – something she'd _never_ done before or after.

'_Right. And then Cordy left. And so did Angel, and We__s__, and even Faith in a manner of speaking,_' Still Small said. '_And then Spike joined up. And it all started to fall apart._'

And hey, Spike was the catalyst for the whole thing at the factory with the re-bar, too. We can blame it all on him.

'_Too easy, pal,_' Still Small said. 'Spike _didn't make you go kissy face with Will before and after Homecoming, and fall on her tonsils and try to mine them with your tongue. The Bleached Blunder was just a catalyst, as you said._'

We still shoulda staked his peroxided ass.

'_No arguments. But I think Cordy pulling away and then leaving did you guys in, odd as it sounds. She was a part of the glue holding everyone together._'

And that's _really_ the seminal event of that whole year, the lack of Cordy, Xander decided. We never were the Core Four, as Willow had called them once. We were always the Core _Five_, even when Cordy was the outsider snarking in. Another realization hit him with the impact of a heavy caliber slug: Anya, the substitute Cordy... Snarky, inappropriate, sarcastic, caustic, tactless Anya. Oh God, I am so very sorry, Ahn. I blew us up before we ever started.

Watching the enjoining spell, him and Buffy and Willow and Giles and Tara all blending together to form something greater than the whole, he recalled again the sudden sense of _completeness_ he'd felt during the spell. Mind, body, magic, and heart. And what kind of a stupid superpower is heart, anyway? And it hit him, then, just what it was that Tara had added to the mix. Never mind that she hadn't been physically present...

Tara was the spirit and the calm and the grounding center and the joy and the intent that bound them all together.

Clickety click. You gotta have five to make a pentacle. Not four. Five to make the big magic together.

Mind, body, heart, spirit, and _will_.

Anya's offhand and admiring comment about how Tara had a lot more steel in her than Anya had seen before clicked into place.

Clickety clack. And that's why _Tara_ was the voice of the Primitive in the nightmares that followed. Tara through her link to them through Willow and their joined magic.

Because Tara anchored the whole thing, and only she could provide the voice to that fierce, restless, prowling spirit.

They passed through the exit from the Initiative and Ghani led them into 1630 Revello drive, and they watched all the nightmares and the angry, stalking, frustrated woman thing covered in white clay and red ocher with her bone knife, and –

– Clakety Click.

Alex and Xander turned to face each other, and said almost in unison: "It's the Primitive."

The prowling dark and pale thing at the edges of the vision, never quite seen clearly, always there. Xander hadn't even consciously registered it, but he'd seen her there all along, all through his journey here.

The Stalker in the Night.

The weird cacophony of the Eldritch thing came again, and the world shuddered and faded, then blinked back in.

And this time, there was an answering howl of challenge and rage.

The voice came from all around them, then, Tara's voice, "I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound."

He was still linked to the first fucking Slayer.

Clickety –

Fade to black.

* * *

Boiler room at the high school, night, and a weirdly calm Xander Harris faced a scowling, nervous and fidgety Jack O'Toole across a stack of fuel oil barrels with a backpack device sitting on it. A device with wires and a timer...

"I really don't remember this," Cordelia said.

"Me neither," Faith said. "Shh. I wanna hear this."

Xander was holding a bowie knife in his hand, easily, still from where he'd twisted it away from Jack during their earlier fight. There was a peculiar, gentle, half smile on his face, and an eerie calm to those brown eyes that Cordelia had only seldom seen before.

It clicked for her suddenly. She'd seen it just before Xander came unglued on Tor and Kyle way back when, when they'd hurt Willow, and he'd put them in the hospital. Uh oh.

And she'd seen the same calm half smile and that look in the eyes earlier in this dream walk when they'd watched Xander face down Angelus at the hospital, the night Buffy had been so sick with the super-flu. _Another_ thing he'd never told her.

Cordelia suddenly wondered if she'd ever _really_ known her husband at all. She'd bet real money that Buffy and Willow never had.

Her eyes flicked to the knife, then to the one that Soldier Xan had on his belt, and suddenly remembered seeing it in her Xander's slaying tool kit. Soldier Xan saw the eye flicker, smiled, and nodded.

Jack glanced quickly over at the exit sign above the door. Xander's half smile broadened a bit, and he said, "I know what you're thinkin'. Can I get by him? Get up the stairs, out of the building, with seconds ticking away? Gotta say... I don't love your chances."

"Then you'll die, too."

Xander raised his eyebrows, and the quiet smile went all the way up to the eyes. "Yeah, looks like. So I guess the question really is... who has less fear?"

Jack met Xander's gaze evenly, but Cordelia could see a shiftiness to the eyes, betraying his inner lack of calm. "I'm not afraid to die. I'm already dead," he said, his voice full of bravado.

Bravado, not bravery. Cordelia had seen both often enough to know the difference, Hell, she'd seen _both_ often enough on her idiot Doofus to be able to tell...

And, 'already dead'? Oh, really? Jack O'Toole had been a zombie or something? Not a vamp, 'cause he'd been out in daylight, but... Oh, yeah. Explained _so_ much...

"Yeah, but this is different. Being blowed up isn't walking around and drinking with your buddies dead. It's little bits being swept up by a janitor dead, and I don't think you're ready for that."

Jack did his best to stare him down. "Are you?"

A part of Cordelia deep inside silently screamed "_No__– _you idiot!"

Xander's eyes flickered to the bomb, back up, and the smile thinned. "I like the quiet," he said.

Cordelia damned near had a heart attack, recalling how the Dweeb had said those _exact_ same words on their way to L.A. after departing Vegas... with nearly the same damned _smile_.

Jack reached in suddenly after an endless pause and yanked out a wire. The timer stopped.

Flicker. They watched as Xander left, and Jack was eaten by Wolf Oz. Eww. Oddly full, indeed.

"Holy fuck," Faith breathed out, barely above a whisper. "He saved my ass _again_ that night. And I never knew."

Cordelia didn't even bother to say it. She just looked at Faith and lifted her eyebrows. Faith flushed, slowly from the neck up, and nodded.

'Nuff said.

After a moment, Cordelia said, almost as quietly, "I saw them hauling the barrels out of the basement the next morning, and wondered... "

"Xander never said dick all, huh?"

"Nope. Not a word. But he was oddly... unaffected by my insults later that day," Cordelia said, frowning. That same damned smile _then_, too. "Later when I found out about you two, I wrote it off to _that_, but now... "

.

A steady passage of scenes now, from one to the next, doorway after doorway, Ghani leading the way with an amiable surety.

Ending at the Downtowner again, and Cordelia suddenly _knew_ what they were about to see.

Faith must have too, for she snarled suddenly under her breath and stepped forward and snap kicked the door open, lunging inside...

Cordelia took a deep breath and stepped through after, to see –

– an empty motel room.

An empty motel room with a rumpled bed and some peripheral damage.

Faith whirled around in a circle, eyes narrowed, then they widened. She scowled and shoved her hair back from her face with both hands and went "Arrrg!" Deep shuddering breath, and she said, "Damn. I thought for sure... "

Soldier Xander pointed to the girl shaped indentation in the Sheetrock and studs. Faith turned and noticed it, apparently for the first time.

"Looks like we're a bit late," Cordelia said. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Faith. "Rushing in to the rescue?"

'Well, yeah, guess so." She shrugged and stuck her hands in her back pockets. "Stupid, I know."

Cordelia's mouth quirked despite herself. "Well, not so much."

Hyena Boy was looking at the dent. "I don't remember that from before... "

"Wasn't," Faith said, frowning. "Fang came busting in and belted me with a baseball bat. No wall hitting that I recall."

"Huh." Cordelia thought, looked at Hyena and Soldier, got shrugs back. "I'm thinking we're on the right trail, Tonto. What do you want to bet my Doofus husband's been here already?"

"Well... " Faith said, shrugging. "Never did like sucker bets. Follow Lassie here, or go look? And where, if so?"

"Huh. Library or Angel's or Giles' place. Xander wouldn't take you – _her__ – _home."

Faith thought for a moment. "Giles."

And just about that time, Wesley and the Council of Watcher's goons showed up. Right on cue, practically.

And stuff broke all sideways. Of _course_. Just because.

After all, it takes a _lot_ of time to make things go right, but they can all go to hell in a heartbeat and a hand-basket.

* * *

They screeched to a halt in a nondescript van, side door already open and the passenger and front doors slamming outwards, people jumping out everywhere.

And then there was a confused blur of motion; a sudden thunderclap of violence that spilled out over everything...

Wesley came barreling up with something in his hand, shouting something about "In the name of the Council of Watchers of Great Britain!" or some crap – like a secret society in _England_ had jurisdiction of any kind on American soil and over an American citizen, _please_ –

– and Cordelia kicked him smack dab in the nuts, and he folded like a hinge.

A couple of guys she didn't recognize threw a net over Faith and she stumbled back, cursing and struggling. Another one shot her with something that went _Phut!_ – and Cordelia vaguely recognized a tranquilizer rifle like the one Giles kept under the Library counter. Faith sagged and went all woozy looking, swaying –

A rippling blur and a snarl and Hyena Xander went all Lon Chaney again, his eyes flashing green light. There was one of those guys from the L.A. offices in late '99, Winchester or Wembly or Weatherby or something – dangling from a one handed grip in Hyena's taloned right hand and it squeezed and there was a cracking sound and a handgun dropping from suddenly limp fingers. And the guy's head went to a definitely unhealthy looking angle...

Another gun coming up, seen from the corner of her eye. Soldier Xander didn't blink. Or hesitate. The right hand went down to that big single action and there was a sudden flat clap of sound; two more, and Smythe or Blythe or whatever his name was was stumbling backward, already going limp. One, twice, _thrice_. Gut, heart, _head_. There was a ripping sound and sudden smell of evacuation, and a sudden third eye where no eye should be –

And somehow, she had one hand wrapped in a fistful of Wesley's collar and tie knot, yanking down, and the other had her Smith & Wesson under his left eye, hammer back, and she snarled out, "_Back_ the _Hell_ up, Wes – "

Ballings, or Stallings – no: _Collins_, that was it, the third Council black ops goon, was pointing a handgun at the side of Cordelia's head. She could see it from the corner of her eye – could _see_ it and there was no way in _hell_ she could turn and shoot fast enough and...

... and Ghani lunged in and clamped those huge, leopard killing teeth on his wrist and put her entire body into shaking it apart. The gun went off, a bullet spanging off the pavement and screaming out somewhere into the Sunnydale night. And she let go, a blonde blur of flying hair and teeth and then there was blood spraying everywhere. Ghani's teeth were clamped shut in Collins' throat and he was down and bleeding out, with low rippling snarls coming from deep in the Afghan's chest.

Wesley, his eyes wide and blue and shocked, stumbled back a step as she shoved, all of the blood draining out of his face. He gasped out, and said, "_Cordelia_... ? My god!"

"Leave. Now," Cordelia bit out, staring at this ghost from her past. "Take these idiots and leave, Wes."

"I most certainly will not!" Wesley drew himself up, and stared huffily at her, embodying all of the pompous ass of high school Wesley in full his righteous glory. Such as it was... "What on _earth_ do you think you're –"

A mental switch closed somewhere in the back of her mind. Flipped a coin and it came down on the side with, "I don't have fucking _time_ for this shit" engraved on it.

She squeezed the trigger and shot him between the eyes.

* * *

Eyes. Wesley's eyes, wide and blue. Wesley's eyes, wide and blue and staring, already glassing over as he fell back – would fall back _endlessly_ behind her eyelids, frozen in that moment for eternity.

She could have, would have, should have, _had_ to have endless justifications for that single, brutal, momentary act.

It wasn't real. He was a dream. This would all go away and _this_ Wesley would live, over and over again in Xander Harris' mind once she got him back and he woke up. Always there, frozen in time in an endless loop.

He _should_ have, _would_ have, _could_ have known better. That when you set out to commit the irrevocable act of kidnapping a teenage girl on foreign soil, to haul her back to ye merry olde to stand for what up to this point was basically an accident and a brief act of spiraling madness temporarily cut short by an Act of Angel, well, then you just _had_ to expect _someone_ to get in the way. Someone might just up and stop you.

Someone like her.

We help the helpless, Wesley.

The Wesley of _this_ time was a man who could commit such an act. And she wasn't the Cordelia of this time who was using him to make Xander Harris jealous and tormented. And the Wesley of _this_ time kissed like a cold, dead fish.

Not like the kiss of a molten god.

And the Cordelia of _any_ time was _addicted_ to the kisses of molten gods. Always, endless, and forever. Never, ever and always.

Truth of the matter was, the man she loved, did love, would love, had always loved was in deathly trouble, and time was running out, and _Wesley_ was in the _way_, and she needed _Faith_ to go get him, and when it came to _that_ choice, in _those_ terms –

– An infinite number of Wesley Wyndam-Pryces of any time were infinitely expendable.

Human choices aren't integers. They add up as infinities.

Multiple choice. Fill in the correct oval. All of these, none of these. One of these things is not like the others.

All of this ran through her mind's eye in an instant as Wesley's wide, shocked, blue and already glazing ones fell, fell back, fell away. And rewound in an endless instant also, to replay again. And again.

"Sorry Wesley," Cordelia said, her voice gone infinitely soft. There was a flatulent sound, and an excremental smell hit her nose. "Wrong place, wrong time, wrong girl."

She looked down at the already cooling meat that used to be Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, her friend. "But I'm really not all _that_ sorry."

A man she once married once said, 'Probably the most difficult choice _real_ humans have to make is whether something is necessarily brutal or unnecessarily brutal. Be nice if there was a joke in that, but there you go.'

Of course, _he_ probably stole that from some character in a novel. She knew her doofus.

She stepped over Wesley's body, and past the dead Collins, a bloody muzzled Ghani falling in to pace majestically at her side.

Damn, time's fun when you're having flies. A broken necked Weatherby still dangled from the clawed paw-hand of Lon Chaney Hyena Xander. He leaned slightly forward – Hyena Xan, not Weatherby – and growled, "No one hurts my girls. Dumbass," and threw the cooling meat to thump and slide down into a sitting position against the side of the van, head lolling and blank glassy eyes staring.

There was a blurring ripple, and three hundred fifty pounds of brown-black shaggy fur the size of a pony, banded back crest, fanged jaws, sloping back, white and black striped legs, and glowing green eyes dropped to four legs and fell in at her other side like a Tibetan Mastiff from hell.

Soldier Boy was just turning, rifle over one shoulder and the big single action coming up and around smoothly to point from the fallen Collins to the small cluster of Watchers. The big 1911 looking automatic from his shoulder holster was in his left hand, and the blue eyes were frozen and cold.

Faith had just recently had her legs give way from the tranquilizer, and she was sitting inside the net on the sidewalk by the open motel doorway, weaving slowly.

The three remaining Watcher stooges were still kneeling frozen around the downed Slayer, their mouths agape. One of them held a knife to Faith's throat, looking up at Cordelia and her escort with widening eyes.

Cordelia Chase-Harris swept hazel eyes across them that were as opaque and cold as the wind off a glacier, and settled on the one with the knife and met and locked with his watery blue ones behind the glasses.

"Scat," She said. "Or die a little. Pick one."

The one to the outside of the little tableau came erect and stood up to his full height, all five foot four or so of it, paunchy little stomach falling over his belt, and said, "Now _see_ here, young woman. You can_not_ interfere with the Council of – "

– Some people are just too stupid to live. The Smith and Wesson came up and around and bucked in her hand with a flat, dull report and he staggered back, a hand going to clutch his ruined right shoulder. A Black Talon. What had Xander said? Oh, yeah: a bag of bone chips in bloodshot meat with an exit hole the size of a softball.

"Tick-tock," she said. "My Daddy used to say that the only thing you can do with a gun is admire it or shoot it."

She brought the Smith around with the muzzle aimed between the watery eyes of blue with glasses and knife.

"Let go the knife and scat," Cordelia told him. "Tick-_tock_." Next to her, Ghani peeled bloody lips away from bloodstained leopard killing teeth, lowered her head, and growled from deep in her chest.

He let go the knife so fast you'd think the handle had scalded him. And scrambled back on his heels away from Faith so fast that he tripped and landed on his butt and scrabbled backwards on the seat of his pants.

Cordelia smiled sweetly. "They just don't make many Watchers like Giles these days, huh?" She twitched the muzzle parking lot way. "Scat. _Tick_-tock."

"She won't ask again." Soldier Boy gestured to the van with his six-gun, and the hammer came back as it covered the other remaining Council guy. "Next time, comes it a loud noise." Good man. Didn't have to worry about _him_ not following through.

Larry, Moe, and Shemp scrambled up and away, piling into the van like Keystone Cops, Larry helping the one in shock with the bag of bone chips for a shoulder. The van, engine still running all this time, all these infinite seconds, pulled away in a puff of blue smoke and a spray of gravel.

Soldier Xander de-cocked and slid the sixgun smoothly into the holster and bent to help Faith untangle herself from the net. Faith was still groggy but already starting to rally from that dose of tranquilizer. Wonderful stuff, that Slayer constitution.

Faith got to her feet with Soldier Boy's assistance, looked about at the bodies and blood and smell of shit all over, and her eyes widened. "Day-um." Then her eyes hardened and a razored smile slid across her lips and she met Cordelia's eyes and nodded, once.

Don't try this at home, kids. We're professionals.

There would be a car here, somewhere, keys in the –

– Cordelia looked around, expecting it to be there and willing it to be so, and there it was. Angel's 1967 yellow Pontiac GTO from 2002 sitting there. She frowned, changed the color to black to fit her mood, and walked over with the rest trailing along, got the keys from under the visor and slid in behind the wheel. The others piled in wherever as she started it up.

A girl could get to like this dreamscaping stuff. PFM: pure freaking magic.

'_So much for not making any changes,_' Still Quiet said, sounding as shocked and awed as dead Wesley had looked.

Oh, shut the fuck up.

.

Vampire hearing. Angel had already risen smoothly to his feet by the time she pushed open the unlocked door to Giles' apartment and swept in with bloody muzzled Ghani at her side. Flat. Condo. Screw it. Here in America, we call them condos, not flats. You had flats on a car.

His gaze swept over her and locked when they hit her Faith, his mouth falling open. Giles wasn't vampire fast, or as smooth, but he was still halfway up when he froze in place gaping at Older Faith.

Yeah. _Her_ Faith. She _paid_ for her in blood and pain and death, and by damn, she was gonna _keep_ her.

Look what I found, honey. She followed me home.

'_You__ get to clean her litter box_,' Still Quiet said. '_I'll make sure her water and food dishes are full._'

Hyena Xander stood filling the doorway, his tongue lolling. She couldn't believe how big Angel's eyes got when he saw him. Or how far Giles' jaw dropped.

"Cordelia?"

"Hi Angel," she said, her tone of voice gone suddenly light and fey. "You seen Xander tonight?"

"Uh." His eyes flickered from her to Hyena Xan-thing to Soldier Boy to her Faith and back again. "Which one?"

"I think you just answered my question," Cordelia said, smiling at him. "Older one. Which way did he go?"

Giles cut across, finally reaching his full standing height and closing his jaw. He was cleaning his glasses furiously. "C-cordelia? Uh, what, may I ask, is going on?"

"You may ask," Cordelia said.

He blinked after a long moment, rolled his eyes and let out an exaggeratedly patient sigh. "What _is_ going on here, Cordelia."

"A search and rescue, Giles," Faith said. She snapped her arm out straight, suddenly; her pointing index finger aimed at her current time counterpart. "You. Shut the fuck up."

Teenage Faith's mouth closed with a snap and she blinked.

"Keep it shut unless you got a real question," Faith said, "And _listen_ to these two guys. And maybe Harris, if he comes back. Your Harris."

She glanced around, and then jerked her head to Angel. "Well," she said, "maybe not him. But Giles, definitely."

Angel jerked back as if slapped and Faith threw an apologetic grin his way. "Sorry, Big Guy. But. You're a great guy and I love you to death, but seriously?" She shook her head, still smiling, "Ain't no way that two hunnert and forty something years of murder, rape, torture, and wanton killing compares right to an accidental killing and an act of stupidity and panic, dude. You weren't getting through. You were just making things worse and, like, solidifying the whole 'hey, I'm evil' thing."

"Evil does take MasterCard," Angel said, smiling slightly. "And Visa."

Faith threw her head back and laughed. "Ok, maybe listen to him some. Angel's pretty cool even if his head is up his ass sometimes, and he's maybe the second best guy you know."

"Yeah? Who's the best?" Current time Faith must have figured it was a pertinent question, because she asked it seriously, even if there was a tinge of sarcasm.

"You were strangling him, dumb ass," Faith said. Current Faith's mouth shut with a snap again. "Your turn, C."

Sigh. "Ok, Giles," Cordelia said, "My idiot husband got himself lost in the Dreamways during a spell to help him reintegrate and we're looking to drag his lame ass back." She thought for a second, and added, "There's a dead Wesley and three dead Council black ops guys back at _her_ motel where they showed up to grab her and haul her back to England. They found us and tried for my Faith. Bad for them." She saw _her_ Faith's eyes light up at that, ignored it.

"Good lord," Giles' hand and cloth froze on the glasses and he stared at her. "You say Wesley is dead? What happened to him?"

"I shot him. _She_ was gone and they found _us_ instead. Bad move."

That dropped Current time Faith's jaw open again and froze the room.

"Good _Lord_, Cordelia," Giles said, shocked again. "_Why_ would you _do_ that?"

"He was in my way and I was in a hurry," Cordelia said, shocking him further. She saw the look in his eyes and the shock in his face, and said, desperately, "In case you didn't catch, Giles, we're _so_ not from around here," Cordelia said, looking him in the eyes. "We're from outside. And I'm so not _playing_. My _husband_ is out there. The man I love. And if I don't find him then this entire world – his whole world with all of you in it, _dies_. Your world _ends_. Getting between us at this point is death."

"Uh... who's your husband, Cordelia?" Angel, recovering faster than Giles. Well, he did have more experience with sudden death, duh. "And are you _sure_ you had to shoot Wesley dead?" He was watching her the wary way that some people watch the big cats at the zoo – like they're not sure the bars will hold.

Good. She wasn't so sure about that, either.

"Not in order: yes. He was in my way and I was in a hurry," Cordelia said, "And, you know him as Older Xander. And you never _did_ say where he went."

"Them," Angel said. "One in an old bomber jacket and one in a black denim jacket. With a big Afghan hound like yours, only less bloody."

'_Yes!_' Still Quiet jumped up and down pumping her fist.

And cool. Ghani was spirit guiding Xander too? Neat-o.

"And they didn't say where they were going," Angel finished. "Sorry, Cordy."

"S'all right." She grinned at him, and threw one to her Faith for good measure. "Now that I know Ghani is spirit guiding him, I know we'll hook up. Ghani would never let anything happen to _any_ Xander."

"You seem rather certain of that, Cordelia," Giles said. "And I must say – this has been the most extraordinary night so far."

"There's bedrock certainties, Giles. You'll find just the right book, sunrise, Buffy stakes vampires unless she's sleeping with them, Xander being a well meaning idiot a lot of times, and the fact that since we were kids, Ghani loves Xander as much as she loves me. Any Xander."

"And, extraordinary, Giles?" Faith shook her head. "You ain't seen a tenth of it."

"Perhaps," Giles said, going over to the sideboard, "It would help if you could start from the beginning."

"Don't have time, Giles," Soldier Xander said. "We're on the clock in a big way. Tick-tock. And the seconds are running out."

Giles poured three glasses of scotch, three fingers each, then added a glass for Soldier Boy. He reached for the soda and raise an eyebrow, and added a generous splash when they all nodded. "Perhaps... it would help if you assume we've heard the basics. Your Xander explained some before he left. He and Alex."

Cordelia shrugged, and accepted her drink. "Ok. A bit. Dreamwalk. Vision quest, right? We're all in Xander's head right now. It's all a shadow of a dream, how's that go? Sound and fury signifying nothing?" She continued, elaborating as much as she thought they had time for. The spell, the eldritch horror, Wizard Xander, their increasingly desperate hunt... The drink helped, dammit. Giles had good scotch.

Giles was a good listener, and that helped also. So was Angel.

"Your Wesley will be up and at 'em again when _my_ Xander is back together and up and remembering again," she finished.

Giles nodded, looking thoughtful. "It may help you to know that Buffy reported her encounter with you and, err," he gestured to the foyer where Hyena Xander was curled up in the entry way, snoozing. "Possession Xander." He smiled, "And with the two Xanders who saved her from him at the school."

"Yeah." Angel had a peculiar smile on his face. "And our Cordelia's been having encounters over the years with a pair of Xanders who keep popping up where they couldn't be, and the one in the bomber jacket keeps catching her off guard and kissing her senseless. Then disappearing."

Faith laughed out loud at that, tipping her glass in a salute. Current Faith surprised her – them, actually – by asking, "So. What can we do to help?"

At everyone's look of surprise, she rolled her eyes at Giles and said, "Slayer still, right?"

"I don't know..." Cordelia said, thoughtfully. She set her empty glass on a coaster. "If you see us again, don't get in our way. And if you see my Xander and Alex again... tell him..." she took a long breath, "Tell him _his_ Cordelia is looking for him. With _my_ Ghani. And that the clock is ticking." She smiled, added, "Tell his lamer ass to leave us a clue."

* * *

.


	30. I Met 'im in a Swamp Down in Dagobah -

**Chapter Twenty-seven: I Met 'im in a Swamp Down in Dagobah...**

* * *

"_Since no one is perfect, it follows that all great deeds have been accomplished out of imperfection.__"_ ― Cordelia Naismith Vorkosigan (Mirror Dance)

* * *

Fade to white. Damned if that didn't make an interesting kind of sense. He wasn't sure _what_ kind, but it _had_ to make something.

They'd never even considered what, if any, the aftereffects of the Enjoining spell might have been. Then again, the Scoobies never really were much on follow ups.

Hell, _Anya_ had had to point out the Troll-god Hammer, Dagon Sphere, Staff of Toth and other things they might could use against Glorificus.

And they really _should_ have, Xander thought. Ole Primitive Slayer, she of the white clay and ocher and muddy dreads and bone knife, had been _pissed_ at them. _Seriously_ pissed off.

And if, as he already knew, Soldier Boy had left remnants; and if, as he was starting to suspect, Hyena Boy had left fragments, then... why _not_ the spiritual representative of all that was Slayerhood?

Something sure the hell was prowling around inside his dreamscape, always at the edges of the mind's eye. Something black skinned and dread-locked and covered with white clay and dust and raggedy skins.

He'd figured out by now that Eldritch Thing was Outside. And if it was managing to shake his entire inner world when it howled and slammed into whatever barrier was keeping it out, then that boded real fucking ill if it ever broke through.

Tick-tock, Mr. Harris-Chase. Like sand through the hourglass, the days of our lives are running out.

"Holy Bleeding Mothering Zeus," Xander breathed.

"And Hera and all their misbegotten children," Alex agreed.

He'd watched Alex work it through at the same time and pace that he'd done so. No need to ask if they were on the same page or not.

He bent a knee and ruffled Ghani around the ears and long silky neck ruff, and buried his face in her fur.

After an endless moment, he raised his head and said, "I know where we're going. And what we need to do."

"Wanna clue me in, Sport?" Alex asked, looking puzzled by the sudden hairpin.

"You're instinct and TSR apps," Xander said, standing and suddenly feeling like ten thousand pounds had dropped from his shoulders. "I'm cogitation, remember?"

"You say so, Chief," Alex said, sounding and looking dubious.

Xander made a chk-chk! sound in his cheek. "C'mon, Lassie. Little Timmy is stuck in the Hellmouth. Let's go get 'im."

Ghani whined and threw a doggy grin at him, and then turned and headed off, pulling at the leash.

"Ok... " Alex shrugged and fell in beside them. "Don't follow me. I'm lost too."

"We're goin' back to where we once belonged, Jo-Jo," Xander said."Taking the scenic route down Route Six-sixty-six from Hell to where it all started."

* * *

"I am _so_ going to need major therapy when this is all over," Cordelia said, as they drove away from Giles' condo.

Faith doubled over laughing so hard she damned near broke in half in her seat. Ghani snuffled and licked at her, and then threw a wide doggy grin at Cordelia, as though she were agreeing with the insane Slayer.

"Queenie... " Faith finally managed to gasp out, "_You_ guys have been needing major therapy since you were sixteen. Hell, you, Xan, Red, and that Aura chick have been since you were _eight_, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask," Cordelia said, acerbically. She shook her head, her lips twitching at the corners.

Skanky Slayer actually kind of had a point, dammit. They really _had_ needed their damned heads examined for most of their lives...

This must be the Wedding That Wasn't, as Xander called it, Cordelia thought, looking around at the inside of the next place Ghani had led them all to. She had a vague, and then less than vague feeling that she really _should_ be hitting on a cylinder she wasn't by now.

Something just hadn't clicked yet. She had a very odd feeling she should _know_ where Xander was, and where to locate the rest of his scattered bits and pieces.

Ah well. It'll click or it won't or Ghani will lead them there. She just hoped it'd be soon enough.

_'God those bridesmaid dresses are hideous,' _Still Quiet said. _'I mean, I know no bride wants her maids to look better then her, but... yeesh.'_

Snerk. Yeah. Buffy looks like a green bean and poor Tara looks like an avocado looking for its guacamole dish.

"Oh, please," Cordelia said, as they watched Anya's former victim – or so he'd said he was, after being unmasked – give Xander the mental slide show from hell. "Like Doofus is _ever_ going to turn into Anthony Harris. And Xander would hit one of _his_ girls with lethal intent about the same time Hell froze over and I'd run around in a skanky costume and turning evil."

"Well, you're half way there, C," Faith said, dimpling at Cordelia's return glare. She shook her head, "Besides, if doughboy had seen through it, he'd be married to Anya now, right?"

"Huh. Maybe," Cordelia said, grudgingly. "Still doesn't mean I _like_ seeing this crap."

"Don't blame you. Hell, _I_ don't like seeing Boy-toy being put through hell like this."

"Don't call him that," Cordelia snapped, adding, "And _you_ tried to kill him."

"My point exactly." Faith glanced at her sidelong. "You're just not letting that go anytime soon, are you," she said.

"Not a chance in hell."

"Good." Faith nodded. "It's what I like about you: no give. Just pure steel all the way through." Cordelia looked at her, eyebrows raising, and Faith continued, "You'd a made a hell of a Slayer."

"Oh, _Hell_ no."

They had wheels now, Ghani apparently leading them through the shifts via turns and traffic lights, going by the changing scenery. The Scoobies finding out that Dawn was a mystical entity made into a human and Buffy's sister. And Xander shrugging and not caring about that. Dawn. No problem. Joyce's death and funeral. Buffy's death, jumping from that tower.

A minor digression backward, time out of order. Vamp!willow and younger Cordelia's discussion with her in the cage before she found out she was a vampire, and nearly dying. The Prom, and watching Xander pay for her dress from the outside, and seeing him watching her dance with Wesley and others and smiling. And _finally_ understanding that the gesture had meant as much to _him_ as it had to _her_...

Skipping class right before the showdown with the Mayor, and finally becoming friends again, kind of, her and Xander. Graduation, and Cordelia staking the vampires, and seeing Larry die. Xander picking her up at that place she'd been living at, and giving her a ride after Graduation. Falling into a heated, almost desperate clinch at the bus station, and her missing her bus... going back to Xander's home and making love for the first time, slowly and with an almost desperate gentleness.

The road trip, where she'd told him that as punishment for making her miss the bus, _he_ was driving her to L.A., and him teasing and wheedling her into going on his road trip with him. Hotels, motels, and laughing at lame and idiotic tourist attractions... and finally, breaking apart and her getting on a bus at Atlantic City a month into it, to go to L.A. Turning back from the bus and flinging herself at him, and kissing him like her _life_ depended on it, and his, before breaking off and running, no, _fleeing_ onto the bus.

Xander sitting alone and watching the bus drive off with fat, wet drops rolling silently down his cheeks. Oh, gods.

"So, why didn't you stay with him," Faith asked.

"Huh?" Cordelia stared at her, having forgotten she was there. "Oh. I- I... I just _couldn't_. He was going back to Sunnydale, and I wasn't, and it just kept getting _harder_ every day. If I hadn't left _there_, I never _would_ have."

"Ah." Faith said, nodding and looking thoughtful.

"I wish now that I had," Cordelia said, very quietly, nearly under her breath. Ghani led them on from there...

Then Buffy's resurrection, where she was half tempted to walk in and slap her idiot husband stupid. Stupid-er. And to beat Willow to death with a shoe. _Not_ digging up the damned coffin _first_ –

Yeesh. For a genius, Willow _so_ could be the dumbest smart person she'd ever met. And again...

She couldn't _quite_ bring herself to think that Buffy dead and buried was better than Buffy alive and able to mope. Ok, screw that. Not on her worst Super-bitch day could she see that as a better thing.

"By the way," she asked Faith. "Second best guy?" Faith raised an eyebrow curiously and Cordelia said, "What about Giles?"

"Third best," Faith said, without hesitation. "Hey, I like Giles and he's a great guy and all, but. He was supposed to be my fucking _Watcher_ after I came to Sunnydale. And he left me in that crappy motel and basically did the sum total of fuck all, really." She shrugged, "So. Fuck him. And his horse, too. He's got a lot of respect to earn back in my books."

"Ah." Cordelia nodded thoughtfully, considering. She didn't agree, necessarily, but the psycho girl had a point. Dammit.

Next up. The song and dance routine day and demon. And then the... what did Willow call it? The Table Rasta spell or something? The mind-rape spell. If it were her instead of Tara, she'd never do something like get back with Willow.

Except she'd kinda done _just_ that in taking him back after the Love Spell.

Grr. Maybe love really _does_ make you do the wacky, in terms of kicking common sense to the curb.

No.

Common sense, maybe. Basic ethics? No.

Xander hadn't taken advantage of _anyone_, not even his major crush Buffy, when he had perfect chances to do so. With Buffy naked and willing under a skimpy rain coat, even. _Willow_ hadn't hesitated to sleep with Tara after the first mind wipe spell. As far as Cordelia was concerned, then and still, that redeemed him for wanting to use the spell to break up with, and dump _her_ to show her how badly she had hurt _him_.

There was a difference, dammit.

And besides, blunt honesty compelled Cordelia to admit, at least to herself, that it was the sort of thing _she_ might have done, if the situation had been reversed.

They were down at the Sunnydale dumps now. Eww. Cordelia pulled to a stop and left the engine running. The entire crew all piled out, multiple Xanders, Ghani, and all, and went wandering, following the lead of the dog on the lead.

Huh. She watched as Xander jumped in front of Buffy to intercept a blast from that Toth demon meant for her. That's her guy. Always doing the brave and stupid thing.

And then watched as the gang pulled him up from the trash, apparently unhurt.

"So, B still together with that Riley guy?" Faith asked, looking uncomfortable.

"No. Don't think so. She was, uh, single last time I talked to her, recently," Cordelia said. She'd almost blurted out that Buffy had been with Spike, and then realized Buffy wouldn't thank her for telling _Faith_ that, of all people.

"Uh huh." Faith gave her a sharp glance, but didn't pursue it.

When Other Xander got up from the trash and they started following him, Cordelia snapped her fingers. "Oh. Yeah. Think I remember Xander telling me about this."

"Yup," Hyena Xander said. He'd shifted back into Lon Chaney hyena boy when they'd gotten back into the car after Giles' place. "Whelp got hisself split into Cool Xander – but not as cool as me – and Goofball Xander. Remember him telling you the story."

Ghani whined, looking at err, Goofball Xander, and glanced up at Cordelia. Absently petting her dog, Cordelia frowned between the lamer Xander leaving the dump, and Hyena Boy Xander.

"Ok, so I'm thinking that means we need both of them," Cordelia said.

"We're picking up a major crowd of Xanders here," Soldier Boy remarked.

Hyena Boy nodded. "We need a bigger boat."

.

Goofball Xander jumped Cool Xander from behind and they fell into a brawl outside of Dorkhead's new apartment, rolling and punching and yelling at each other. Cordelia glanced over at Faith, and they both rolled their eyes.

Cordelia stuck two fingers in her mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Windows shattered along Wilkins Boulevard. Faith stuck a finger in one ear and wiggled it, giving her a pained look, and Cordelia smirked back at her.

The two wrestling Xanders jumped apart, looking around, startled.

"Boys, boys. You're both pretty." Cordelia folded her arms across her chest and glared at them.

A neighbor from down the hall leaned out and called out, "What's going on down there?" and then took a good look at the group and ducked back inside. Cordelia could hear the sound of deadbolts fastening and the chain going across.

Just gotta love Sunnydale, some days. Not.

Goofball was wearing the Hawaiian shirt and chinos and Converses outfit that she'd seen on the one in the circle-seal-diagram thing back with Wizard Xander. Cool Xander had on a decent dress shirt, brown slacks, and a fairly decent jacket. Good. Made them easy to tell apart. Easier.

Yeesh. David was right – you really _do_ need a program for this play.

"Cordelia?" Two identical voices said, and the owners snapped their heads around and glared at each other. Then did a double take and snapped back around again. "And, _Faith_?"

Goofball Xander ducked behind Cool Xander and peeped out from around him, getting a pained look and an elbow. "Uh, Still murderously evil?" Goofball Xander said, looking at Faith.

Who gave him an equally pained look to the one his double had. "Not so as you'd notice. I'm in recovery now, but I'm starting to consider a brief relapse."

"Eep!"

"Wait," Cool Xander said, looking rapidly between Soldier Boy and Hyena Xander. "Did that Toth guy hit us _again_? Twice? Jeeze."

Sigh. "By now, you've got this routine memorized," Cordelia said, looking at the brunette Slayer. "Over to you, Faith."

Still scowling over the 'murderously evil' comment, apparently, Faith said, casually, "Why don't I just knock 'em both cold and we can drag them by the convenient carrying handles?"

Snickers from Hyena and Soldier. Both Xanders gulped, and then started looking worried as Cordelia considered. "Naw," she said, finally. "Too much effort, no matter how tempting it is."

"Ok, we already know _you're_ evil, Cordy," Goofball Xander said. "But may I just say – hubba hubba." His gaze went up and down Cordelia's outfit. She rolled her eyes.

"Sure you don't wanna reconsider that?" With a shrug at the return head shake, Faith folded her arms across her chest, scowling at them. "Ok, listen up, jerkwads... "

* * *

The Song and Dance demon Sweet. Ballad of the Mustard Stains and people exploding into flames. The Mind Wipe spell and the shark demon. Heh. He had forgotten that Spike thinking he was Randy Giles, a souled vampire, was pretty damned funny. Having Spike for a room mate in his parent's basement. Tempting to not stop Spike from committing suicide by self inflicted staking this time.

Was seriously irritating to see again how amazingly unhelpful Spike had been as a reluctant Scooby, all the while mooching off their good graces and wallets to keep himself in blood and cigarettes. And keep himself unstaked.

Jeeze. Captain Swirly Coat had been more helpful that first year, and Angel had been a _putz_.

Joyce's death and funeral. Buffy's death and funeral. Buffy's resurrection, where he _still_ couldn't manage to dredge up any reasonable amount of remorse over bringing her back from the dead, no matter how much he pretended.

She was _alive_ to bitch about it. Good enough. _Stupid_ of them not to dig up the damn coffin first, though.

The Toth demon and getting split into Cool Xander and Scruffy Xander when he jumped in front of Buffy. That's my boy: always doing the stupid thing. The wedding that wasn't. Xander decided to cut to the chase and he just intercepted the 'Anya's old client demon' –slash– victim and killed him with the Acathla sword. Really didn't need to watch that whole routine again. He'd learned what he needed from it, as he'd explained to Angel and Cordelia after the wedding that _was_.

Alex just watched him do it and shrugged. Ghani made no comment either way.

Xander started to grab Alex and leave... and then he turned on his heel and snagged Donut Boy and Anya and had a quick chat with 'em.

Former demon customer of Anya's, wedding not gonna work, neither of you really want to get married to each other so much as you just want to get married – for your own separate reasons – better to cut your losses _now_ even if it hurts – and it will – you _won't_ turn into your Inner Daddy Harris ever, dipshit, yata yata yata. And make _damn_ sure you don't miss that Expo in Vegas, dumbass.

And kissed thorough hell out of his Anya for one last time, ever, and then moved along –

– What the hell. You only die twice, right? Maybe, just _maybe_... it'd make the parting a bit less bitter after the inevitable wedding breakup.

Or probably not. Xander never ever got breaks like that. The Universe just wasn't geared for it.

And the Eldritch _Thing_ kept howling and smashing at the bars of their cage, and the world would jolt, ripple, and waver momentarily. Gee, that just _never_ gets old. Not.

Not as much in the way of seminal moments in this last year or so. Hell, marrying Cordelia Persephone Chase and convincing her to stay that way was seminal enough for three freaking lifetimes.

He couldn't wait to get back to her.

He and Alex and Ghani stepped out of the Sunnydale Bison's Lodge and into...

The Prom. Wow. Talk about watching episodes out of sequence. But watching himself pay for Cordy's prom dress from outside was kinda cool. So was cutting in on Wussley and snagging one last dance with her while Donut Boy was off with High School Anya – and making Cordy's knees go week and her insides melt once again was kinda fun, too. Then walking out of the Sunnydale High gym and...

Straight to catching Spike after Warren killed that Katrina girl and had set up Buffy for it, and dragging his lame and battered peroxided ass back to his crypt before daylight. No idea why he did that. Just seemed... shrug. No idea.

Catching Dawn after she found out she was the Key, before she ran into Ben, and explaining to her that it didn't matter. She was real to him, and to Buffy, and that's all that counts and that's that. No arguments. He thought real hard about killing Ben... and decided not to. Move on.

He and Alex paid close attention to the details on each 'It's a Wonderful Life' scene that Clarence, err, Ghani brought them to, but really didn't learn much new from each one.

Ghani hit a stride after the Dawn thing, heading unerringly in one direction from one scene to the next. Xander didn't even attempt to steer. Nowhere else he really wanted to go at this point.

They strolled into the doors of the Espresso Pump and stepped out into Riley's old frat house. Lowell House. Ghani led the way down the center hallway to the big floor-to-ceiling mirror in one wall.

Xander looked at Alex and made an 'after you' gesture. "Wanna do the honors," he asked, out loud.

Alex considered briefly. "Naw. It's all urine."

Xander snickered. Still twelve years old inside and fart jokes were still funny. He opened the tiny hidden panel next to the mirror and pushed the hidden button. The horizontal green line of the retinal and body scanner came from the mirror and slid down over his body.

"Whatcha gonna do if it finishes the scan and goes 'ehnnn!' Rejected! Intruder alert!" Alex said, smirking.

"Oh, just sit down here and cry quietly."

Nod. "As long as you have a backup plan." They exchanged grins.

Apparently the hamsters driving the computer finished their deliberations because Ms. sexy female computer voice came on saying: "Retinal scan Matched. Harris-Chase. Alexander. L. Body Scan Matched: Harris-Chase. Alexander. L." and the mirror slid to one side, reveal the interior the gleaming high-tech elevator.

They got on board, all of them, and it started down. Downward to the valley of death, rode the three.

Xander rested a hand on Ghani's narrow head, scritching it gently with his fingers. Didn't really need a guide and map for this one. He knew the way by heart, even after two long years.

They ignored the bodies and the smells and the dead demons once the elevator hit bottom and opened out into the tunnels of the Initiative base, and Xander strolled down the corridor until he came to a door.

He put a hand onto the touch plate, his left one, and watched as it scanned his wedding ring. Of course.

And stepped through the opening door into the room where they'd performed the Enjoining Spell.

Back to where we once began.

'_I see a red door and I want to f__ade to black,_' Still Small said.

Not gonna happen this time, bud. Cameras are still rolling.

* * *

_Tired_. That's what she was, tired. Read, exhausted. Glancing over at her faithful companion, she was annoyed to see that Faith was as apparently still as bright eyed as at the very beginning, at least on that score. Slayers could be infuriating for normal people.

Even the ones that weren't normal.

Goofball Xander and Cool Xander were bickering behind them. Mostly Goofball Xander. Talk about infuriating. Finally, Hyena-Elvis Xander reached out and dope slapped Goofball upside the back of his head and glared at him.

"Hey!"

"Shut the hell up," Elvis Xander said. "Akela's _teeth_ you're annoying."

"Oh yeah? You're not a bundle of joy either you – " _Faith_ glared at him and he broke off, muttering quietly to himself. He still had a case of the major terrors where she was concerned.

They had managed to get the two split Xanders to come along with them though, finally. Cordelia thought that it was Soldier Boy and Hyena that were the clincher, along with the fact of her and Faith being here, together. They'd trailed along with only minor protesting about leaving Anya behind. Interesting and somewhat telling, that...

Good. No knocking cold and dragging needed.

Ghani led them to the Magic Box and they watched current Xander's brave but insane assault on Olaf the Troll that ended with Olaf trying to get current Xander to choose between Anya and Will for which one would die.

Idiot. Cordelia could have told him that was a no go. So could have Faith. Possibly a lesson here, but the scene didn't tell any of them anything they didn't know before. Unless... it was that it did show a marked ongoing deterioration of Xander's crisis abilities and confidence in himself and his relationships...

As they were heading away, a blonde haired figure in a long black coat stepped out of an alleyway between the Magic Box and the next building over. Soldier, Hyena, Cordelia, and Faith whirled on it, Faith raising a stake she'd drawn.

"Whoa," Spike raised his hands, palms out. "I come in peace and all."

"Right, Fangless, sure you did," Goofball said.

Spike gave him a scathing look over followed by a slow three take across the entire group. "What, is it gotta catch 'em all day again and I missed it?"

"What do you want, Spike?" Cordelia asked, stepping forward. "'Cause I could really use the stress relief dusting you would give me about now."

"Easy, cheerleader," Spike drawled, sticking a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. Hyena Xander slapped it out of his lips. "Hey!" Spike stepped back, glaring.

"Me not in mood either, Dust Nearly in the Wind," Hyena Boy said. "Get my drift? My gal asked you something."

"Yeah, yeah. All right," Spike sneered and dug in the pocket of his duster, pulling out a folded sheet of paper. A grungy, worn, and much folded and refolded piece of paper. He handed it to Cordelia, who took it gingerly with an eww expression.

"Droopy Boy – yours, the one with the Alex character, gave me this a _long_ while ago," Spike said, looking bemused. "He said to give it to you if I ever ran into you."

"Thanks," Cordelia said, looking at it.

"Right," Spike said, nodding. "Cheerio and all that rot, then. Have fun with the Harris collecting."

"Hey – " Faith said, and he half turned back, raising an eyebrow. "Notice you weren't much with the helping in all that," she waved toward the partially wrecked Magic Box.

"I could have done some 'o that, but I was paralyzed with not caring very much," Spike said. He lit a replacement smoke and sauntered back into the alley and away.

"More and more I can't understand why we never staked him," Cool Xander said, shaking his head. "So, what'd other us allow?"

Cordelia began to read the unfolded note aloud, smiling as she did so:

.

"_Cordy._

_If you're reading this, it means that I'm no - _

_Crap. Wrong note. That's the 'You're reading this I'm dead, so long and thanks for all the fish' one for Buffy. *grin*_

_Hey schweetheart. We keep not crossing the paths, but I'm told by Deadboy that you're wanderin' the inside of my head doing the whole Spirit Journey thing too. Poor kid. I don't want to be inside my head most times._

_'K. So. We think we may have part of this sussed out on our end at least. Me and my shadow. If you haven't done that part of the Magical Mystery Tour yet, get thee hence (always wanted to use 'hence' in a sentence) to Buffy's when we're doing the whole Oldest Slayer Dreamwalk tour._

_Ghani should know what I mean. My Ghani led us there._

_Oh. Ghani still likes me better. Neener neener._

_Anyway, that'll give you a major clue in you need. Then get my scattered parts and find you a Farm Boy for directions if you need to, and head to the old Initiative underground._

_Us? We're going back to where I think it all started to unravel in all the major ways. Where I started to..._

_I'm right? We'll meet you there. I'm not? Hey, please disregard previous correspondence and this tape will self destruct in twenty seconds. Your mission, Mrs. Phelps, should you choose to accept it – _

_Snerk. You'll figure it out. You're one of the smartest women I've ever known short of Will, and one of the toughest bar none._

_All righty, I'm off. I still got a lot of Cordy's to kiss hell out of._

_Signed: Your Dork, Mr. Xander Harris-Chase_

_P.S._

_You're still my candy-girl, and I still owe you a real dance. Until the stars burn out, here's looking at you, kiddo._

_PS 2: don't feel bad about shooting Wuss-ley. He was a real dickhead last time I saw him_."

.

"Hah!" Faith laughed. "That's our boy."

"Yup. Accept no substitutes," Cordelia said. She wiped at her eyes with a corner of her cloak. "Dammit. He _always_ does this to me, the whole laughing and crying at the same time thing. Jerk."

Soldier Boy nodded. "Probably shouldn't say this, but he does it on purpose."

"I know."

"'K," Faith said. "You know what he's talking about?"

"Some of it, I think," Cordelia said, thinking. "And I'm sure Ghani can get us there." Ghani whined and held up a paw for shaking. "So – you know what he meant with the Farm Boy thing?"

"Uh, yeah," Faith looked a bit sour. "Buffy's college beefstick boyfriend of the time. Riley."

"You don't look happy about that idea."

"We met while I was in Buffy's body. During my whole killer crazy thing."

"Oh."

"Yah. C'mon. We're wasting dream light."

* * *

Remember seeing the bridge of the Enterprise? Not the new one with Captain Leaping Quantums. And not the Enterprise C or D or E with Mr. To Baldly Go and all the nifty flat pads and touch consoles and stuff.

Cool shit, but not the Enterprise.

No. I mean the original accept no substitutes _Enterprise_ NCC-7701 herself. The one with also accept no substitutes James Tiberius fucking Kirk. The Federation's golden captain fabled in three increasingly cheesy television seasons and the gods only know how many Expanded Universe original series novels, movies, and comic books and...

Ok, the Enterprise _A_ was just fucking cool, too. Now _that's_ what a ship named the Starship fucking Enterprise should _look_ like. But we digress. We're talking the original, the one that started it all.

Ok, now picture it in your head. Got it? Banks of metallic kinda looking consoles and sliding controls and knobs and those kind of curvy seats for the crew members. And Nichelle Nichols in a miniskirt. Yum. But we digress again. Great big honking view screen on the forward bulkhead. And little chirpy noises and blinking little lights set into things and things going _pwee!_ all over. Give it buttons, and flip switches, and sliders, and dials to turn, and readouts like a digital alarm clock. A science station with a hooded thing for Spock to bend over.

Ok. Got it? Coolness. Now hold that picture in your mind's eye. Oh, hell. Throw a few of those big displays around for good measure. Like, three walls, one to a wall. and add in the Captain's chair on a little raised dais with a steam punk-y little flat screen on an arm that can be swiveled around for the Captain's private viewing. There we go.

Groovy. Now we're cooking with grease. And did you ever see Forbidden Planet? Oh, come _on_. One of the seminal movies of the whole entire B-grade 50's and 60's sci-fi experience? Young Leslie Nielsen in one of the only good movies he ever made? Yeesh. What are we teaching our kids these days? Barely literate morons.

So ya gots banks of these big ancient IBM big iron looking computers and consoles with the punch card readers and little bitty CRTs set into them and lots of little blinky inset lights and dials and gauges and all sorts of crap that probably has not a damn thing to do with computers, but it looks just cool as hell, in a cheesy sort of way.

You just gotta wonder about the people envisioning the far future, even in the low budget stuff, eh? I mean, get real. It's centuries in the future and we're still using punch hole cards and sliders and digital tapes? They're probably why we don't have our flying cars yet.

But still, now you got the image. Ok, blend it into the bridge of the old Enterprise we visualized.

And now drag out your guilty pleasure copy of War Games and stick it in the old mental VCR. Yeah. That one; young Matthew Broderick and a really cute young Ally Sheedy. And the supercomputer that looks like a diesel tractor engine with red and yellow blinking lights and LEDs all over that makes the chuga-chuga chuga-chuga noise when it grinds through computations. And the funky voice synthesizer.

Yup. Toss Whopper over in a corner somewhere, and drag out one of those big brass steam punk looking globe things with the little balls on whirling curving rods around it and the big graduated arcing holder. Set it in a steel floor ring in the center of it all. With little bitty glowing things zipping around it, and the globe is actually only brass on the top and bottom caps. The rest is a kind of smoky crystal and it has a red pulsating light in the center than makes a wow-wha-wow-wha-wow-wha kinda low reverberating hum noise when it pulses.

And groovy, again. Now you got it.

Xander and Alex stopped in the middle of all of this and gazed around in open mouthed incredulous bemusement. Ghani stopped too, but Xander wasn't sure if she was bemused or not. With a dog, who can tell? She flopped down on the flooring with a thump and a doggy grin and started to chew at something stuck into the fur on top of one foot.

Eww. Those paws have been all over Sunnydale, girl. Don't stick them in your mouth. You don't know _what_ the hell is _in_ that fur.

A guy about Xander and Alex's height wearing a long white lab coat was bent over the science station looking into the hooded viewer thingy when they came strolling in. He straightened, putting a hand to his lower back.

Yeah, cause bending over that thing can't be good for you.

"Oh, hey," he said. "You made it, finally."

"Got hung up in traffic," Alex said, still looking bemused. "Ventura Freeway was murder."

"It gets that way, yup." Lab-coat Xander turned to Xander and looked him over, then took a few steps over and stuck his hand out. "Alexander LaVelle Harris-Chase I presume? Welcome. Been expecting you."

Xander looked him up and down, a slow lopsided grin spreading over his face. He stuck his out and shook with himself. "Xander Harris, I presume."

"Yeah, but my friends call me Xander."

"That's funny. So do mine."

"Fancy that." They smirked at each other for a minute.

Lab coat Xander was wearing dark brown dress slacks with those little tiny white flecks to them. Xander never could remember what the fabric was called, but they looked expensive. And red, brown and white argyle socks and brown loafers. He also had a creamy colored turtleneck shirt, a pocket protector with lots of pens and mechanical pencils and a few of those pokey light things doctors carry in his top pocket. With one of those old programmable multi-function Texas Instruments scientific notation calculators that Xander could never use effectively even with a Willow handy.

Oh. And the glasses. Black framed Clark Kent glasses with coke-bottle bottom thick lenses. And slicked and combed to one side black hair going long and unruly in the back.

"Ok, so... Me Xander, and him," Xander jerked his hand over to Alex, "Subconscious me. Call him Alex. Which means you'd be what, the Id?"

"Not exactly. But I am pleasantly surprised you have the terms."

"Hey, I read that book," Xander said. "Ok, skimmed it, actually. But some of it stuck."

"Well, you throw enough at the walls, and some of it's bound to." They grinned at each other again. "Huh. Ok," he said, "Call me... Lexx, since we already have a Xander and an Alex, and I wouldn't be caught dead as an Al."

"Me neither." Xander nodded. "All righty, Lexx."

"And I'm the kind of, uh, guess you could say the collective unconscious that keeps all of the other parts communicating and coordinated. Plus I handle all of the maintenance on the involuntary crap, like heart beat and breathing and motor control and visual interpretation. So you don't have to do that consciously over there in the fore-brain."

"Collective unconscious?" Alex said. "Like that Jung guy?"

"I don't care how old he is, what's his name?" Xander said.

"Ha ha. You a funny guy, guy," Alex said, smirking.

"Two shows a night, I'm here all week. Try the squid – we're having a special."

"Snicker. Both of you clowns are funny," Lexx said. "But, yeah. Collective Unconscious is a good enough description. Although not exactly in the way that Young guy, whoever he was, was envisioning it."

Lexx continued, "That's basically what I do. Alex already explained his function, as the subconscious. You – you're the ego. The Big-I. The consciousness, without whom we'd all be basically drooling and being fed through a tube with machines hooked up to us. The soul, or one of them, if you want to get metaphysical."

"Wait," Xander put a hand up for a halt, "One of them? I though we only had one to a customer."

"Ok, fine. Pull yours out and count them. Go ahead – I'll watch."

"Har har," Xander said, rolling his eyes. "Ok. I'll take it as a given for now. Smart ass."

"Smirk. I thought you might be that way about it," Lexx snickered. "And," he hit a switch and the big forward viewscreen came on, showing a Sunnydale night street scene, with Cordy, Faith, Ghani, and a whole crowd of Xanders in various outfits heading down Banks St., presumably towards Revello Drive. "Cordy and Faith have the fragments of Superego with them. As well as some other assorted parts and fragments."

"Ooh. Cordelia and Faith. Two of my favorite hot women. And in tight leather and a chain-mail bikini and diaphanous skirts," Alex said, looking at the monitor. "I may die of terminal orgasm right here."

He noticed that both of the others, and Ghani were staring at him. "What! Uh, did I think that out loud?"

"THX, dude," Xander said. "And way too much information."

"Oh, yeah, like _you_ weren't thinking the same thing."

"Hey, Faith," Xander spread his hands. "I mean, c'mon. _You'd_ hit that."

"I _did_."

"Oh. Right."

Lexx rolled his eyes. "Ok, come on. Didn't Dad ever give you the lecture about 'don't stick your dick in crazy'?" They looked at him, and he blinked. "Oh. Right. Never mind, I have no idea what I was talking about just now. Carry on."

Double smirk. "Will this thing pick up Buffy's shower?" Alex asked. They both _looked_ at him. "Ah, right. Sorry."

"Huh," Xander said, scanning the rest of the displays, and all of the little inset scene windows. He pointed at one, where a small Faith and a small Cordelia were arguing furiously about something, with a small Soldier Boy and Hyena Xander standing to the side looking concerned. "All of this comm gear and stuff. Is there any way to send a message back?"

"To the girls?" Lexx looked at him, and shrugged. "Sure."

He whistled and snapped his fingers, and a pair of Xanders in ensign uniforms came running up and saluted. "Sir!"

"Your cue, I think," Lexx said, turning to Xander.

Nodding, Xander snagged a PADD from a startled female-shaped Xander Yeoman, and began entering his message into it. Alex craned around trying to read over his shoulder, and Xander turned to block his view.

"Fine. Be that way," Alex said, huffily. "But you _do_ know that – "

"Yup. I'll be careful," Xander said. "I know _exactly_ what to say and how to say it."

He handed the PADD to the two ensign-Xanders, who saluted again. The PADD turned into a folded sheet of paper, and they transformed into a pair of Xanders identical to him and Alex, complete to clothing, swords, and pistol belt.

Xander watched, bemused, as they vanished with a bright flash and a transporter whine.

WHAM!

The room – and the world – shook and vibrated. Everything rippled and wavered for a moment, lights dimming and coming back up. There was an eerie eldritch howl in a million simultaneous voices that cut through everything.

And from an alcove at the end of a long, arched corridor leading off from one side of the big control room, a zorch and a crash came and an answering wordless howl.

"And _boy_ am I glad you showed up, finally," Lexx said, hastily. "'Cause we have _major_ freaking problems."

* * *

.


	31. The Charge of the Not So Light Brigade -

**Chapter Twenty-eight: The Charge of the Not So Light Brigade (Downright dark at times, actually)**

* * *

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah, what is it this time, Virg? Crazed ghouls, rabid llamas, three-toed sloths bent on world domination?__"_ ― Mighty Max

* * *

Bee-zarre, Cordelia thought, even for Sunnydale. And _that_ was saying something, seriously.

Ghani led them through a doorway off of the main lobby of City Hall and they stepped out into a large open space in a concrete room with balconies around it that had to be deep underground. It just had that feel to it.

And they stood on one side of the long, curving balcony and leaned on the rail as a metal and part human-part demon green and flesh colored... monstrosity battled with Buffy. Or, rather, kind of a Buffy.

"That's ADAM," Soldier Boy said, pointing down at the monstrosity.

There were monsters all over, fighting with armed soldiers and other people in uniforms and coveralls. The soldiers were losing.

"Think I remember hearing something about him," Faith said, frowning. "This would be the, uh, Initiative complex, huh?"

"Part of it," Hyena Boy said, nodding. "The main central well or whatever you want to call it. Uh, three, four levels deep?"

"And way, way underground," said Goofball. "Under Sunnydale, 'natch."

"Where _else_?" Cordelia said, her mouth twisting. "Sunnydale, where everything hideous and bizarre ends up eventually. What doesn't land in L.A., that is."

"Heh. You are not wrong."

Buffy stands up with her eyes glowing orange and does battle with ADAM, a battle that ends with her ripping something out of his chest, and then levitating and dissolving it in midair.

"That, whatchmacallit, Joining Spell?" Faith asked.

"Yup, that be it," said Cool Xander.

"Damn. Buffy gets all the neat toys." Faith smirked."I looked in _my_ stocking and found a rock."

"Yeah," Hyena grinned, "Just wait and watch. You may not think it's so cool in a bit."

Ghani whined, and led them through a sliding door, and they were on Banks heading towards Revello where Buffy's house was. Ghani led them up the steps, and Cordelia opened the door and they stepped straight into another dreamscape.

Dreamscapes, rather. Plural. One for each Scooby with the possible exception of Tara. Willow, Giles, Xander, Buffy...

No, wait, there's Tara's over there.

Cordelia watched as Willow lay in bed with Tara and painted symbols and sigils and eldritch script on Tara's nude back. Then as the little red-head ended up in the Drama Room at presumably UC Sunnydale, trying to read a book report and squirming uncomfortably as Buffy led all the other drama students in mocking Willow. And as a dark woman creature painted in white clay and red ocher jumped on Willow and started tearing her apart while she screamed and struggled...

Heh. Willow's big subconscious – and maybe conscious – fear is still being little nerdy Miss Sears catalog 1996, 97, and 98, Cordelia thought. And being mocked for it. Like in that frat house fear demon Halloween party they watched at one point in this trip, where her other big fear was being out of control and magically incompetent – incompetency at _anything_ had always driven Willow nuts-o all their lives – and having Oz go wolfy and infect her.

Cordelia felt a pang over being one of Will's main tormenters in the whole nerdy Sears girl thing over so many years, and suppressed it ruthlessly. Later. Xander first. Business first. Worry about other stuff later...

She made a derisive noise and Faith glanced over at her, smirking. Yup. Count on Xander's dreamwalk to start with Joyce in a lacy red teddy seducing him. Horndog. Cordelia watched him being examined while taking a leak by Initiative doctors. She watched as he went through Apocalypse Now-scape, being crushed by an oblivious Giles telling him _Spike_ was being trained as a Watcher – eww – and his series of dead end jobs. Anya and his relationship and demon fears about her. Little does _he_ know... And naturally, more horndog stuff involving Willow and Tara and lesbian sex. Yeesh. (She did make a note for future video rentals, though) Heh. Cheese Guy, Giles and Willow being incomprehensible to him, Principal Snyder, and finally that clay woman turning into his Dad and chewing him out and then ripping his heart out.

Xander in a nutshell. Sex, fear of failure, fear of being ignored by people he respected, more sex, and hate/love/fear/disappointment with his dad. Stuck in the basement at his parents, stereotypical geek. And the heart thing? _Nas_ty. And add in being invisible from the Fear Demon thing. Shades of Marcie Ross.

Cordelia was absurdly gratified to find that she didn't feature in either his or Willow's parade of nightmares. Especially not in Xander's. Faith, either.

She'd half expected Weirdo Mud Lady to turn into Faith doing the sex strangle on him... Yes, she had Faith issues still. Deal with it.

Giles. Issues about not being needed by his surrogate family, especially Buffy. Man, if he only _knew_ how _wrong_ that was... And his relationship with that hot looking English black lady, not having a family fears. Spike in a photo-shoot as a male model? Equipment failures, lack of communication with the kids – always a problem for Giles and the Scoobies – and being scalped by mud lady. _Just_ as he figured out she was the First Slayer spirit...

Almost stereotypical Giles, if one thinks about it. A pity he didn't keep cool English black lady. Cordelia wondered whatever happened to her.

Heh. Buffy. Boyfriend turning evil and attempting to take over the world as the Surgeon General, with evil demon cyborg. And, snicker – the sentient coffee maker plot and the pillow fort was just surreal and hilarious. Now, the desert thing and the conversation and fight with clay woman... that was interesting, bizarre, and disturbing. Mud woman using Tara's voice was disturbing also.

Cordelia wandered with her hand on top of Ghani's head to Tara's dream world.

Hrmm. Interesting. Tara – real unsure about Willow and their relationship. And how secure Will's sexuality is, especially in lesbianism. Hell, _Cordelia_ could answer that for her: Willow is _bi_sexual. And not very secure at all: Willow takes her validation almost entirely from how other people see her. Tara: terrified of being torn apart by Oz, and, interestingly, going through a sequence of seeing them all three as a poly-amorous pack-family, with Tara as beta female. Ha – not likely. She'd be alpha girl to Oz's alpha male in a heartbeat.. Both would just humor Willow in letting her play Alpha. And, also interesting... dominating and verbal-mental abusive family, and Tara's fear of becoming a demon expressed as she turns into something hideous on her birthday: and then kills and eats Willow and Oz and the others. Then turning into mist, and sinking into clay woman, and becoming her voice...

Huh. Wow. Really complicated girl. Cordelia frowned, thinking back. She didn't remember seeing Tara as a part of the ritual casting at the Initiative compound. Just Giles, Xander, and Willow. And Buffy... huh. Then again, Buffy wasn't in the circle when she was linked into the enjoining as the body or fist or whatever, either.

Tara's connection to Willow might be the root... Cordelia would have to think about that.

She caught Faith's eye and got a nod back. Jerked her head, and snapped her fingers for Ghani's attention, and they followed the dog out through the kitchen door and out onto the UC Sunnydale campus.

"Huh. Gee, Lassie, couldn't you just take us straight to the well where little Xandy is trapped?" Faith asked. She got a doggy grin in return and an offer to shake paws.

Faith laughed and bent over to shake, and ruffled the dog's ears.

"So, C," Faith looked up at her. "Next?"

"You know where to find us a Farm Boy?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Faith said, nodding. "I was in Iowa's room with him once, remember? It's in a frat house over thataway."

"As Xander's Ash impression would say, Groovy," Cordelia said. "Lead on."

"Hail to the King, baby," Faith said, laughing. "Unfortunately, most of the time I feel like the only thing I'm leading is Jack and shit, and Jack left town. So I must be the other guy."

"Oh well. We got a full tank of gas, half a pack of smokes, it's nighttime in Sunnydale, and we're all wearing sunglasses," Hyena Boy said. "Hit it, Jake."

* * *

The big control room suddenly became a beehive of activity as a number of Xanders, of both sexes, came rushing out and slid into crew seats at various consoles. They all began sliding things, flipping switches, pushing buttons, and turning various dials.

"Am I going to Hell for thinking that's kind of hot?" Alex asked.

He gestured to the communications array console where a mocha skinned female Xander in a dark red mini-skirt outfit, wearing fishnet hose and black calf high boots, was taking a seat and sticking a big chrome dongle in one ear.

"I'll save you a seat by the fire, bud," Xander said. "Bring weenies and marshmallows."

"Hailing frequencies open, Lexx sugar," she said, glancing over at Lab Coat Xander.

"Thanks."

"Oh – look! It's 36 of D! And Extremely Female Porn Starlet as an Orion slave girl!" Alex was practically drooling. And then no longer any 'practically' about it: "And _T'pol_ is your _Science Officer_? Wait... "

Slap!

"Ow!" Xander rubbed the back of his head where Alex had just whopped him one. "What the hell did you dope slap me for? Dickhead!"

"Dude," Alex pointed to where Marina Sirtis in a NextGen miniskirt uniform was taking a seat near the Captain's chair. "Why the _hell_ do you have a ship's _counselor_ in your Control Room if you never freaking use her?"

"Oh, yeah," Xander said, scowling and still rubbing the back of his head, Like, 'I sense great turmoil, Captain' is really gonna tell me anything new. Doh! _Really_, Deanna?" He smirked and added, "And who _says_ I never use her?"

Lexx and Alex both _looked_ at him. "Dude. Too much information."

"Sorry."

Smaller, as in like, eight inch tall or less, Xanders of both sexes with antennae and dragon-fly or butterfly wings, wearing tiny lab coats, unitards, and carrying clipboards, flew out and began circling the big globe thingy and making tiny notations.

"Y'know," Alex said, "I'm just sayin' an' all, but I'm starting to think you may read and watch way, _way_ too much sci-fi and fantasy, dude."

"Nah." Xander looked around, blinked. "Uh... ya think maybe?"

"I'm rapidly becoming certain."

Xander shook his head in bemusement, slightly boggled, and wandered over to the alcove, Alex and Ghani at his side, and Lexx trailing slightly behind.

And stopped dead partway in through the arched entry tunnel, and never mind that being an unfortunate choice of words in Sunnydale, or even in _mental_ Sunnydale.

It was... apt.

Stopped in dead frozen, gape mouth, jaw on the floor, mind spinning its wheels blank faced shock.

Alex made an indescribable sound in his throat, bringing Xander out of it long enough to cut his eyes to the side and see his Subconscious Double in the same state as he was.

'_Wow._' Still Small blinked in the back of Xander's mind. '_And Great Godfrey Cambridge, even. I am... boggled._'

I'll second that and raise you a Great Googledy Moogledy, Pal. Heavens to Murgatroyd, even. Boggled is a peculiarly apt word choice there, too.

The corridor was lined with inset curving monitors that flowed along the curve of the wall, from floor to ceiling, as far as the eye could see. _Impossibly_ far for the length of the corridor...

Impossibly long corridor, too, for something you could glance down and into the alcove through before they'd stepped into it.

And each and every display was showing a different scene. _Scenes_ – they changed even as he and Alex and Still Small gaped at them.

A thousand worlds. A thousand Xanders and Willows and Jesses and Cordelias and Auras. Ten Thousand. And nearly as many Buffys and Spikes and Angels and...

All of them different.

Just the variations on Ethan Rayne's little Halloween surprise could fill several of Giles' thicker reference books. And more.

Worlds where the Hyena spell had never been broken. Worlds where Cordelia had been caught up in it as well, and others where he'd claimed _her_ as his mate, rather than trying for Buffy. Not all of those ended well.

Worlds where a fourteen year old Cordelia had called him _back_ to the gate, on that long ago Midsummer's Eve night between eighth and ninth grade.

Worlds where it had been Xander and Buffy, or Xander and Willow, or even Xander and freaking _Harmony_, rather than Xander and Cordelia. Not all of _those_ ended well.

Worlds where the Nighthawk Summer never ended, because Buffy never came back. Worlds where Faith showed up in the middle of it, and Buffy's return didn't go nearly as smoothly for her. Worlds where...

Infinite diversity in infinite combinations.

He trailed along, his head swiveling like a camera on a tripod, trying to take it all in and failing.

It got worse.

Or maybe better, depending on your perspective.

There was a sharp delineation where a bright band of metal bisected the tunnel wall, and there the monitor views changed. The past. _Pasts_.

A plethora of pasts, and fuck the alliteration.

Xander and Cordelia and Willow and Jesse. And Faith. Stretching back _endlessly_ along the span of the years. Back to as far as there had been recognizable humanity? Maybe so...

Definitely back farther than the scientists and anthropologists said there had been humans recognizable as such on the Earth.

Giles' "The World is older than we know" suddenly took on chilling and mind boggling proportions.

Lives and lives after lives, and all of them endlessly connected, as far back as the mind's eye could reach. Connected even when they were apart from each other, living their separate lives for a generation or so. A lifetime or so.

On that scale, a lifetime is an _eye-blink_.

Words stutter stepped through Xander's mind, almost meaningless before that vast panorama. Hyperborea. Pangaea.

A trailing, repeating pageant of Xanders and Cordelias, together and apart, friends, enemies, and lovers, together and separate through the ages and always, _always_ connected somehow, even when living separate lives. Always.

Ever parted and never parting.

'_Wow. The Vulcans had it _right_,_' Still Small said, still sounding awed.

And often with a Faith as the third leg of the tripod.

"The Hall of Alternities," Lexx said, his voice oddly hushed, as well it might be in the face of... that. "And the Hall of Ages."

"Apt names," Alex said, his own voice hushed as well.

"I've never been able to think of better ones," Lexx replied, shrugging.

Xander turned on him, both of his eyebrows scaling his forehead. "The fuck?"

Lexx shrugged again, and gestured at the walls of monitors. "All of the variations of the World's Dream, floating in the Sea of Dreams. A not quite infinite number of variants of this world. Or maybe _this_ one is a variation of yet another... all of them branching off from various cusp points and decisions and events."

"Alternate Universe theory," Alex said, nodding slowly. "Cusp points and branching time lines. I should have known... "

Xander's raised eyebrows went to him next. "You didn't?" he asked.

"Hey, I don't make it to the Control Room very often," Alex said, looking apologetic. "I'm generally stuck in the basement with rest of the Black Gang."

"You see what I meant, now, about the multiple souls thing," Lexx said, gesturing at the row of infinite pasts and presents. "There's no such thing as part of a soul."

"How... ?" Xander trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

Shrugging again, Lexx threw up his hands. "Hard to explain."

"Take your best shot," Alex suggested, "Unless that translates to 'Fuck if I know either.'"

"It does and it doesn't," Lexx said, "And it's _still_ hard to explain. Time... isn't linear. _Linear_ time is just how the conscious mind _perceives_ space time: it's a mental construct imposed upon the incomprehensible to make it comprehensible and logical. We're not _in_ your conscious mind here, Xan. Not really."

"Right." Xander nodded slowly, feeling numb. "And... ?" he waved a hand at the rows of alternate worlds trailing off behind them.

"The limitations of perception don't apply here either," Lexx said. "_Except_ where and as they've been imposed in order to keep things... to keep things from overwhelming you. All of this?" he gestured at the multiple world line images, "You don't normally perceive while in your waking, conscious mind. Except for maybe as things half glimpsed from the corner of the eye, and that nagging sense of having seen or done something before. And a nagging sense of familiarity."

"And meeting someone and feeling in five minutes as if you've known them your entire life," Alex said, nodding again. "Because you _have_. Entire _lives_, in one form or another."

"Reincarnation?" Xander asked, still feeling as though reality had turned to quicksand beneath him, but slowly finding his ground.

Hey, all of that sci-fi, fantasy, and comic book reading had to be good for something, right?

'_Thank you, Roger Zelazny,_' Still Small said.

Yeah, bud. And all of the other similar authors.

"Yes. But not quite the way that the Buddhist and Hindu faiths would have it," Lexx said. "Still, it's a close enough model for rock and roll."

"What's the faint green glow running through all of these?" Alex asked, craning his head to study all of the visible images with obvious fascination.

"Ah. Uh... " Lexx shrugged. "I think it's Dawn."

Xander opened his mouth, stopped, his mind running briefly in circles. Closed it again and nodded slowly. "That makes a certain kind of sense, yeah," he said, thoughtfully.

"The Key made manifest, and incarnated as a human being with a human soul for possibly the first time in all of existence," Lexx said. "And the Key exists – "

"In all universes and all dimensions everywhere," Xander finished. "I knew this."

"And time is a dimension," Alex said, his voice quiet and thoughtful.

"Okay... " Xander trailed off, shaking his head. Just... too too much.

"So. Did those idiotic Monks screw up everything?" Alex asked, "And will the Boss remember this when he wakes back up to consciousness?"

"I don't have a freaking clue, and that worries the hell out of me, frankly," Lexx said, removing his glasses to polish them. It made him look oddly and disconcertingly Giles-ish. "And, no. Probably not in the entirety. It's – "

"Things that Man was not meant to know?" Alex said, his tone of voice and his expression derisive.

"Heh. No. Things the waking and conscious mind isn't able to _process_," Lexx said, looking apologetic. "_You_ can, because you're not consciousness. Not really, you're intuition and subconscious, and you don't see things as linear cause and effect. And I can, because I'm closer to pure cognition."

"Whereas I'm just the poor schmuck in the driver's seat," Xander said, shaking his head again.

"Sadly, not far off from the truth," Lexx said, souding apologetic again. "But you're also volition and will, imagination, logic, and the intent that ties all of us together and acts on what we process and present to you."

"Oh lucky me," Xander said. "And I'm fragmented, so we are all of us fucked."

Sighing, he moved to the end of the tunnel. _Fled_ there, really, suddenly wanting _away_ from the vast swamp of information and input. All of those lives...

But there were worlds and worlds out there where he _hadn't_ fucked up things beyond all comprehension. Hadn't fucked up him and Cordy beyond all repair. Not yet, at least. And that was cause for some hope...

There was a touch pad with a numbered key-pad and blinking lights to one side of the at the end of the Tunnel of Possibility's open archway, and a translucent force screen across the opening. The alcove's interior was a large circular room with a large Greater Seal of Solomon inscribed-slash-inlaid into the floor in brightly glowing blue white lines.

Well, brightly glowing in theory. And there is no difference between theory and practice, except in practice.

In practice, most of the lines, about eighty-five percent or so, were brightly glowing. Other portions of the design were starting a to dim a bit. Some parts more than a bit.

'_Uh oh, that just can't be good,_' said Still Small.

You have an unparalleled grasp of the obvious, bud.

Inside the seal was something female and human. Human in the sense that it had human shape. Female in the sense that it had tits and presumably other female parts. Xander really didn't want to try surviving investigating that on his own. Let Spike do it. Or, hell, despite the wildness and the ferocity, she looked about sixteen. Let Angel check.

It, or She rather, was tall, probably about Xander's height, with ebony skin of that dark sleek black-brown that some Africans have. What you could see of it, anyway – most was covered with white paint or clay; some sort of white pigment anyway. She had diagonal slashes of red ocher, or maybe clotting blood across her face from left temple down to right jaw. And black, coal black eyes.

Long, mud and blood matted hair hung in thick dread-locks from her scalp, and the teeth in that wide mouth were filed to points. She had long, like four inches or so long, thick fingernails that looked like talons.

And the toenails looked like they could do talon duty if they wanted, too.

Oh, and she was wearing only a loincloth of some sort of soft, dirty, ragged leather or hide. Hence the tits observation. Not that there was anything even remotely erotic about the display, Xander mused. And, she had a long bone knife in one hand carved with some sort of runes that glowed a dull red.

When she saw Xander, the black eyes went an almost lambent gold and she hurled herself towards him. She hit a barrier around the inner perimeter of the seal and there was a flare of actinic light as she hit a force field of some kind. The lights dimmed. Shouts of alarm came from various places in the big control room, calling out readings and techno-babble.

Parts of the inscribed, glowing seal dimmed a bit, also. Not much – maybe just a few inches here and there – but enough to make Xander swallow and edge back slightly.

"That," Lexx said from beside him, and Xander jumped about six inches with a little shriek, "Would be one of those major problems I mentioned."

"Yanno? I'd started to figure that out, finally. That's why I came here," Xander said, sticking his hands in his pockets and nodding.

WHAM!

The room – and the world – shook and vibrated again. Everything rippled and wavered for a moment, lights dimming and coming back up. The eerie eldritch howl in a million simultaneous voices that cut through everything came once more.

And inside the seal, the Primitive went absolutely freaking nuts. Howling and hurling herself at the barrier holding her in. Sparks flared and flew everywhere.

"And _that_ would be the other one."

* * *

.

WHAM!

And the world around them shook and vibrated. Everything rippled and wavered for a moment, lights dimming and coming back up. That eerie eldritch howl in a million simultaneous voices that cut through everything followed it. Ghani yelped and doubled herself in half getting back between Cordelia's legs for protection.

There came an answering crackling crash and an answering wordless howl of rage and challenge from somewhere. It seemed to echo from all around them.

An answering voice came from all around them, then, too. Tara's voice, "I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound."

"Crap!" All of them jumped and looked at each other, eyes wide. "Thought I'd gotten used to that," Faith said.

Cordelia looked back at her, swallowing hard. She found her voice after a moment and said, "So. Are you pondering what I'm pondering, Pinky?"

And without missing a beat, Faith said, "Gee, I think so Brain. But are you sure it's really appropriate to wear a monocle and lederhosen before Labor Day?"

Cordelia's jaw dropped and she stared at the other woman. Brain lock. Oh-kay. She shook her head to reboot and clear it of the mental image that that one conjured up...

"Nooo... That wasn't it."

"Then I haven't a clue. Gnarf."

"Don't _make_ me hurt you, Pinky."

Smirk. "Sorry, Brain," Faith said. "Well, if it wasn't 'Gee, that sounded a hell of a lot like Tara in that Slayer dream,' then I'm still without clue."

"_Lots_ closer," Cordelia said. She shuddered all over, then, after ruffling Ghani's ears in reassurance, set off again. "Like, on the nose, pretty much."

She stopped suddenly. Faith stumbled a bit matching the sudden halt. "Will you _quit_ that," she said, shoving her hair back from her face with her hands. "Lead, follow, or get the hell outta the way."

"Sorry." Cordelia said, "I think I'm having an apostrophe or something."

"The way you keep punctuating this journey, I'm not surprised. Sheesh."

"Epiphany, that's it. I always got those mixed up," Cordelia said. "Ok. I'd ask these guys too, but you've actually been with for this entire trip watching all of the same Not-so-funniest home video clips... "

"Straighten me sister, for I must be bent," Faith said, looking at her intently.

"Oh-kay... think back over the whole thing, from when we were watching little kids us up through, oh, say, Graduation," Cordelia said. Faith made a face and Cordelia flipped a hand dismissively. "Yeah yeah. Not your favorite topic. Put on your big girl panties, suck it up and deal."

Straightening, Faith snapped a salute. "Aye aye, sir. Dealing, sir." She frowned slightly, "Ok. I'm with you. What am I looking at?"

"All right," Cordelia folded her arms across her chest, looking pensive. Ghani sat immediately, her tongue lolling out, and cocked her head, watching Cordelia attentively. "Now, ignoring the road trip for the moment, look at the years after that up to present... "

"Rewinding and fast forward, check." Faith nodded.

"All through our lives, I mean, _all_ through, there've been absolute certainties. Daddy may not have been big on displays of affection, but he loved me and would give me anything. Gucci made the best leather. Manolo Blahniks make your feet hurt," Cordelia frowned slightly, "And Xander Harris was the one person, one guy, I ever knew that wasn't _ever_ afraid of me. Anyone really – I mean, he'd stand up to Angelus knowing he could pop Xander's head like a zit. But _me_ especially."

"Well, they say that the measure of a story is if you can have two women together and they're _not_ talking about a guy, but since Donut Boy is the whole focus of this op, we'll let it slide. Shoot." Faith said. "You're used to guys being afraid of you, huh?"

Cordelia noticed all of the Xanders were clustered around, also watching her intently. She must be onto something here. Or else she had mustard on her tits... or even just the tits would do it.

"Universal laws, like I said. Absolutes," Cordelia shrugged. "I could usually wreck most guys with a carefully chosen word and a raised eyebrow. Destroy Willow with a well placed comment. But not Xander. He would always, _always_ fight back. Friends, enemies, frenemies, boy-girl friend, always, no matter. Always stand up in my face and give me what for if needed, turn aside the worst insults with a sarcastic joke and a wise-ass comment, argue... hell, even when I broke his nose in the sixth grade, he was back the next day ready for round two."

"Ok," Faith said, shrugging. She crossed her arms and frowned back. "We already determined that for someone who says he's a coward, the boy don't have a lot of quit in him."

"But that's just it," Cordelia said. "He _quit_. At some point between the Willow fluke and the re-bar and me, and Graduation, and the rest of his life up to where he knocked me over in Vegas, got me drunk, and we humped like bunnies all over the strip and then woke up married... he _quit_. Boy interrupted."

"Ok," Faith said, holding up a hand. "Just gotta clear a lot of sudden mental images outta my brain. Mostly porn, for some reason."

"_Good_ night, everybody!" Hyena Xander said, grinning.

"Heh."

"Humped like bunnies, huh?"

"Oh, shut up. And quit smirking."

"Not gonna happen. Ok," Faith said, nodding, "You now have control of the horizontal and vertical again. Carry on."

"Ignoring Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dork here for the moment – "

"Hey!"

Cordelia sailed on past the peanut gallery with a dismissive shrug, indicating the other two with an incline of her head. "We saw him stake his best guy friend, mostly by accident, but still. Hyena possession. _Soldier_ Boy. We've seen what he probably had to deal with with those... "

"Did we ever," Faith said, shivering.

"That Ampata girl that I think he was starting to fall in love, or at least deeply in crush with, basically crumbled into rot on his lips," Cordelia said. "Angelus, nearly turning into a fish monster, seeing Kendra murdered in front of him... he faced down things that would send even a lot of adult combat vets into therapy – "

Soldier nodded to her, his face impassive but his eyes saying go go go...

"And picked up, put on his big boy underoos, and sailed on. _Dealt_ with it," Cordelia said.

Faith shrugged, her own face impassive. "Enough 'o that will wreck anyone. It adds up."

"Yeah," Cordelia said, nodding slowly, "But not like that. Hell, _we_ wrecked him. Practically destroyed him," she said. Faith raised an eyebrow, and Cordelia continued, "You, me, and Willow. Buffy too, but mostly us."

Faith scowled at her, but didn't say anything.

"Seriously. Willow, one of his best friends since diapers, practically, threw herself on his lips and then cut him off cold. Dropped him like a hot rock and devoted herself to getting Oz back, and did the wounded thing – she's good at that – and let him eat the blame for the whole mess. I cut him out _completely_ for the first time in our entire lives since kindergarten. I had reason, _lots_ of reasons, but still..." Cordelia shrugged, went on, "You, a girl he liked, thought was hot, and wanted to help, chopped him off at the nuts and then did an erotic murder scene on him that'd put most guys off sex for life."

"Ok, not that I'm not into the remorse thing here," Faith said, putting up a hand, "But it didn't wreck him. We saw that with that Zombie guy and the bomb thing. And you after."

"That's my _point_, Faith. That's where I'm _going_ here," Cordelia said, "We _destroyed_ him, but we _didn't_ break him. _None_ of that did. He went on to handle Jack and his Zombies and rally and lead the troops against the vamps when your sugar daddy went Mayor McSnake at graduation."

"Not." Faith said, her eyes hard. Cordelia looked at her, and Faith said, "_Not_ a sugar daddy. That's the one thing Wilkins _didn't_ want and _never_ asked or expected from me. One of the only older guys I ever knew that didn't. Drop that one."

"Ok. I never knew," Cordelia said, "I just – "

"You just _figured_," Faith said. "Move on."

"Right." Cordelia said, nodding. "Ok, so Xander got shot in the guts there over and over again, staggered, dealt, and moved on. Hell, Buffy broke and quit three times during those years that I know of. I broke after the re-bar. Xander shook it off, dealt, and moved on. Until... "

"Until college and you screwed him and left and everyone cut him out of their lives and made him Useless Boy," Faith said.

Cordelia opened her mouth and Faith waved it off.

"Yeah yeah. Made love when he was gonna take you to the bus station and you fell into bed at his folks instead," Faith said, gesturing impatiently. "Pardon my fucking French, put on your big girl undies, and deal. Move on."

A smile danced at the corner of Cordelia's lips, then quirked them all the way up into a grin and she nodded. "Fair enough," she said. "And then the big Enjoining Spell thing, and ADAM, and everything went off the rails there. Going through the motions. No more standing up to Buffy when she went on her 'me Slayer, you peon, you can't possibly understand me' kicks. Except for maybe a token snarl or two... "

"Huh." Faith frowned again, but she was nodding slowly. "Anya?" she asked.

"Anya... not really an entity in this up to the wedding and the Spike thing," Cordelia said. "Don't get me wrong, I like Anya. Anya was good for him mostly, though, up to the wedding fiasco."

"Uh huh," Faith said. "Can see that, mostly. Can also see that the wedding thing broke 'im, though."

"One more layer on the cake. So was the Splitting thing," Cordelia said, a bit impatiently. "It keeps going back to that Enjoining thing in my head here, now."

"How you figure?"

"Ok, look, not _just_ that, but it's cumulative," Cordelia said. She pointed in succession, "Hyena, Soldier, and getting split in two. And joining with the Oldest Slayer spirit." She sighed, "We – we've never been big with the follow through, and that's the _root_ of this whole mess."

"Huh. Ok," Faith said, "The hairpin curves keep throwing me, but I'm hanging on your tail so far."

"Never been big on follow through, us Scoobies," Cordelia said. "We pick up and move on to the next thing, next monster, next disaster, and don't ever really _look_ at the previous wreckage. Just sweep it away and clear for battle stations again. Because the _next_ Apocalypse is always just around the next bend up ahead."

"Uh huh. And at some point, you have to just _stop_. Red light. Hit pause, reassess, and get closure on it, or it all builds and builds, and then a valve goes," Faith saw Cordelia's raised eyebrows and said, "State mandated therapy for the past two and a half. A must for all inmates. I know the jargon."

Cordelia _looked_ at her, and nodded, said, "You're really _not_ stupid, are you."

"Nope. Ever so kind of you to notice." Faith grinned. "What I was doing in the slam, C. Time to hit pause, rewind, look at it all, and do the follow through and sort out the wreckage."

"_We_ don't do that. We just go on getting more and more tightly wrapped and less and less well hinged," Cordelia said, looking disgusted. "Giles never, that I know of, really did a check for any Hyena remnants. Never really did much in the way of looking at the Halloween possession for aftermath, even through we _knew_ that that one left remnants in Xander _and_ Buffy. And," she looked at Cool Xander and Goofball, "I'll bet he never looked into the Toth thing for aftereffects after you were reunited, huh?"

They nodded. "But he was – "

"No. Don't make excuses," Cordelia said, coldly. "That's been a part of the problem all along."

"Ok. But why the Enjoining Spell?" Faith asked.

"Think, Faith. What is the Slayer essence?" Cordelia said. "We don't really _know_, but we _do_ know it's _female_. Slayers are always women, right? _Always_."

"Far as I know, yeah. Unless there's something the Watchers Club's not sharing. Girls, actually, always thirteen or so to seventeen."

"Yeah. And Buffy and Willow treated Xander like one of the girls, but – "

"– I can attest to the fact that he's pretty thoroughly male, and so can you," Faith said. "And _no_ guy is ever 'one of the girls'. Not even _gay_ guys. Never _ever_, way down deep where you live."

"Right," Cordelia said, nodding.

"You never treated him as one," Faith said, "That I've seen so far in all this."

"I _like_ men, Faith. I think the best thing that whoever set all this up ever did was the whole girl-boy thing," Cordelia said. "Xander's a guy. Drives me so very _nuts_ sometimes, but I _appreciate_ that about him. I treat guys like guys and girls like girls."

"Sing it, sister." Faith nodded, said, "And so you have this very female spirit running around inside this male head... "

"And there's scraps of hyena in there. And we know there's little bits and pieces of a freaking war hero - "

"Traumatized war hero. Heavy on the PTSD," Faith said. "My uncle had that shit. That's where I first heard about it and where I first started picking up the whole Audie Murphy hero worship thing. Murphy started the whole 'dealing with wounded war vets' thing."

"Uh huh," Cordelia said, "And odds and ends of a real personality and bits of every war movie, book and comic soldier Xander ever watched or read about. Because Ethan Rayne was a sociopathic dumb ass, mostly."

Soldier Boy nodded. "You're on the rails. Keep on keeping on." He paused, exchanged glances with Hyena Boy, got a nod back and continued, "It helps any, you're seeing the shatter points, mostly. Ghani is leading you straight there, rather than your having to wend your way through miles of porn footage, fantasies, irrelevant memories, and nightmare scenes... except for the one where you found me." He sighed, then shrugged, and said, "I've been trapped in one or another of those since just after that Halloween, 'til you came along. Him too, probably," he inclined his head toward Hyena.

"Nah," Hyena Boy said, those green eyes distant, "I've been stuck in the back of the mind, mostly, where the instincts live. Only come out during dreams, or during really bad shit when it all hits the fan, and Whelp forgets to keep me locked down 'cause he's too terrified to think."

"Two of 'em. Hyenas are matriarchal," Faith put in, suddenly. "Alpha female hyena spirit. _Two_ female spirits."

Cordelia frowned at her, completely missing Hyena Xander's sudden scowl and affronted jerk back as if he'd been slapped. She vaguely remembered something about that, from researching the hyena possession with Xander after they'd gotten together in Buffy's basement. Almost lost in the midst and muddle of that year between Eyghon and the Order of Teraka and Ms. Calendar's deah and all of the badness that was Angel losing his soul...

"I kind of remember something about that," Cordelia said, nodding slowly.

"Hey, Discovery Channel," Faith said, shrugging. "Don't leave the cell without it."

Hyena Xander made a derisive sound in his throat and they looked at him, startled. "Don't believe everything you see on TV, kids," he said.

"Meaning?" Faith's eyebrows rose.

"_Spotted_ Hyenas are matriarchal," Hyena Boy said, rolling his eyes. "_Brown_ Hyenas are socially more like wolves. Alpha female and an alpha _male_. _Striped_ hyenas are monogamous, have a social structure more like other canines, and they ain't really pack animals. Very small family groups."

Both of them blinked at him. It was very nearly more words than they'd ever so far heard him string together into a sentence...

"I kind of remember something about that, too," Cordelia said, frowning, "From researching at the main library with Xander that year. Uh... but it was a messed up year and a lot of that's pretty vague."

"Okay, and again, so?" Faith scowled at him, holding up a hand. "Not challenging you, just, ah... clarify?"

Hyena Boy shrugged. "_That_ bunch of hyenas was a throwback species of _brown_. Parahyaena brunnea brevirostus spelaea, to use the scientific jargon. A lot closer to the prehistoric brown hyena than to modern ones. It's why that idiotic zookeeper chose them for that stupid ass ritual. Do the math."

"Ah." Bits and pieces clicked into place in Cordelia's head and rearranged themselves. She nodded. "Why your hyena form is four hundred pounds and black brown like a Tibetan Mastiff on steroids. So... _not_ two female spirits. One."

"Right."

"Ok," Faith said, shrugging. "Pardon the hell outta me."

"No problem, Babe," Hyena said, winking at her. "I just ain't no girl. And there ain't no need to screw the Whelp up worse than he already is."

"Hey, I'm cool if you are," Faith said, shrugging again. She winked at him.

"Making Xander the alpha male, Tor and Heidi the beta male and female, and, um... Rhonda the alpha female?" Cordelia scowled at that one. Oh no, so very _not_ going to consider Rhonda freaking _Kelly_ a rival...

"Nah. You, or would have been if Whelp had run across you during all that," Hyena said, snorting. "Summers would have been if she'd accepted the idea. Heidi as a fallback after Summers fought him off. Rhonda's no more alpha material than _Kyle_ was."

"Uh huh. _That_ I can picture and live with," Cordelia said. She looked at him, cocking her head as more pieces reshuffled and fell into place. "And Tweedle Dork and Tweedle Dummy here just added another fracture line. They're not remnants... they're integral parts. Or _were_, because Nitwit _used_ to be cool and lamer in a more or less even mix. It all goes back... " Cordelia nodded decisively, and bent and picked up Ghani's leash. "C'mon. I know _where_ we're going now. I know _why_ we're going." She set off, and said, "And I know why my lameoid husband is such a mess."

She glanced back over her shoulder. "And I know why _I'm_ here. What the anchor thing really is. This slide show hasn't been just for Xander. It's to teach _me_ something, too."

"You know what we're doing when we get there?" Faith said, falling in alongside of her. "And why I'm here?"

"Those parts I'm still working on."

That hideous, million-voice shriek came again with the accompanying WHAM! and wavering. And the answering howl of challenge and rage.

* * *

"Ok," Xander said, nodding slowly. "And what do you expect me to do about it, again?"

"Why, I expect you to dine, Mr. Bond," Lexx said. Xander stared, and Lexx shrugged. "Sorry. Bit of pop culture humor to break the tension."

"You need to work on your timing and delivery," Xander said, sourly. He studied the creature in the great seal in the alcove, and the weakening seal itself.

'_Girl. __Not__ creature,_' Still Small said.

That's no girl, bud.

'_Look at her. That's a _girl_,_' Still Small insisted. '_One of _your_ girls, dumb ass. Even if she is all in your head._'

Hey. Some of my favorite girls over the years have been all in my head. TMI, yet? But that's not one of them.

_'Neither was Harmony. Would you have stood by and just __watched__ and done nothing while she was vamped at Graduation? If you'd had a chance?'_

Uh... Brain freeze. No. Hell no.

_'There you go,'_ Still Small said. _'What the hell does like or favorite got to do with it?'_

Fuck you. She ripped my heart out of my chest. And _ate_ it.

_'So did Faith. So did Willow. So did Buffy,'_ Still Small said. _'So did Cordelia. And you __married__ Cordy. And fought like hell to _stay_ married to her.'_

Sigh. You don't get it.

_'Oh, I __get__ it. If they're hot and cute like Ampata or Cordelia or Faith, you'll put it all on the line. But if they're frightening or hideous and ugly? Nah.'_

Crap. Xander sighed. Sometimes he really, _really_ wished he could win an argument with the inside of his head.

"Any ideas?" Xander said, looking at Alex.

"Hrmm. It's a tough one," Alex said. "You're a guy. Slayers are female. I know you've always been in touch with your female side, but how do you re-integrate that? I mean, without getting eaten in the bad way, that is."

He glanced over sharply, "You think she's one of my re-integration targets?"

"Don't you?" Alex stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Didn't you?"

"No," Xander said, "I'd kinda thought I'd have to kill her."

"So, _how_ do you kill a piece of yourself, huh?" Alex asked, looking at him intently.

Sigh. Two falls out of two for losing arguments with himself. He had a better track record with Cordy. Xander stepped forward, and put out a hand, palm flat and almost touching the barrier across the alcove. Left hand, for some reason.

The Primitive hit the inner barrier on the seal in a howling rage, making the lights flicker and dim and shouts of alarm come from the control room once again. Another segment of Seal dimmed. She stopped, cocked her head, and glared at him.

"Alone. No life. No friends. _No mate_." Tara's voice said from all around him.

"Sometimes it's like that," Xander said. "Sucks, but there you go." Huh. Was there a male Primitive spirit out there he could hunt down for her? Maybe Groo. He'd work.

"We... are... _alone_! Just the _kill_! Live in your death gasp, the moment when you cease."

Yeesh. And very fucking eerie to hear that in Tara's gentle voice. He cocked his head back at her, meeting the eyes. "Y'know, if I cease, we all cease. Ashes to ashes, all fall down."

"One dies. One Lives." She hurled herself at the inner barrier again with a howl. "You _die_. One Lives."

Crap.

Talk about a front on the war between the sexes.

* * *

They practically tripped over Riley. He was coming across one of the campus park areas, wearing a black fatigues outfit and carrying some sort of futuristic rifle when Ghani stiffened and went on point like a German Shorthair.

Cordelia shouted and waved, and he came trotting up to them, all dark blonde hair and muscles and corn fed good looks. Kind of like Tor Hauer, only minus the deadly intensity, she reflected...

And when the make up of the little group registered on him, Riley made a strangled noise and brought the blaster thing around to aim at Faith, the blue-green eyes going hard.

Suddenly, Hyena Xander was between them, up in Riley's face and looking upwards into his eyes. No snarl, no shift to Lon Chaney form... just a cool icy green gaze and a slight curl to the lip.

"Yer feeling froggy there, Iowa," he said, "Then go ahead and jump."

There was a tap on Riley's shoulder and his eyes rolled sideways to where the muzzle of that big rifle was laying next to his ear.

"I'd listen to the man," Soldier Boy said. "He'll mess you up." (beat) "Me, I'll just kill you." The blue eyes were chips of frozen metal.

"I can't believe you're actually defending this... dangerous slut, Harris," Riley said from the corner of his mouth.

"No one hurts our girls, boy. But no one," Hyena said. "It's kind of a hazardous bidness to get into."

"_She's_ one of your girls?" Riley ground out. "Since when?"

"Since I said so," Hyena Boy said. A hand blurred out suddenly and he was stepping back holding the blaster thing, Riley saying 'ow!' and shaking his fingers. Hyena Xander did something and popped out a power pack looking thing, and threw the rifle back to Riley.

Riley caught it across the chest, fumbling slightly. Soldier Boy stepped back, smoothly removing the rifle muzzle from Riley's ear.

Cordelia stepped up to him, and he gave her a puzzled look. Oh, that's right. She knew him, sort of, from all the dream sequences, but he'd only seen her very briefly at Joyce's funeral. And they hadn't really met – Riley had been too focused on Angel and Angel hating.

And now she doubted he really registered her face. Just the cleavage. Men. Jeeze.

_'Why you picked that outfit, innit?'_ Still Quiet said, snickering. _'The practical effects, as opposed to the sturdy armor value and full coverage.'_

Oh, shut up. Cordelia frowned, and then shrugged and banished the chainmail with a thought, replacing it with a skin tight full body suit of oxblood leather with buckles, straps, and shoulder and upper arm plates. Knee high boots of a somewhat darker leather, to match the shoulder trim. And a broad belt for the swords and pistol... her hair she tucked into a long single braid down her back.

Screw it. The chain bikini didn't seem to be doing its intended job when she needed it to, anyway. She ignored the admiring wolf whistles from Faith and Hyena Boy.

"Eyes up, Riley," Cordelia said, getting a wrenched gaze from him and a 'you have eyes?' expression. "I know you have Faith issues, but you're just going to have to let them go."

"Issues?" Riley shook his head. "More than just issues. She stole Buffy's body!"

"Yeah yeah, and I fucked you in it," Faith said, giving him a razor edged smile. "You enjoyed it. So did I. Deal."

Riley's eyes bugged out, and Cordelia shot her a _stifle it _look from the corner of her eyes. _So_ not helping.

Cordelia snapped her fingers and brought Riley's heated gaze around to her again. "Don't have time for this crap. We're on the clock. Tick-_tock_."

WHAM!

That wordless cacophony scream came again with the attendant wavering in shimmer. The answering howl came as well, followed by Tara's voice saying from everywhere and nowhere, "I am destruction. Absolute... alone! I am the thing that hunts."

"Yeah yeah, and I am the terror that quacks in the night," Faith said, rolling her eyes.

Riley glared at her again.

Hyena Boy said in a conversational tone, "Not that I care, but the last time Cordy started that tick-tock stuff, on three she turned a guy's shoulder into a bag of bone chips and blood blown hamburger." He grinned, showing points to his canines. "Made me downright hungry."

"Who the hell _are_ you people?" Riley said. "Wait," he said, holding up a hand, "You're that, uh, Corrina girl that was with Angel at Buffy's mom's funeral, right?"

Sigh. "Cor-de-li-a," she said. "Get it right. And we're the people you're going to take into, what, Lowell House," she glanced to Goofball and got a nod, "And show us to the entrance to the Initiative complex and open it for us."

"The hell I am!"

"_Tick_-tock, Riley. You hear that wham and that howl? There's a _thing_ wandering around here, _outside_ of all of this. And when it breaks through, we all go _bye bye_. For-ever," Cordelia cocked her head and looked at him, seriously. "You took an oath, right? Protect and serve or something?"

"Think that's the LAPD, Cordy," Faith said, helpfully.

Riley glared at her, then back at Cordelia. "Yeah. I did."

"I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against _all_ enemies, foreign and domestic;" Soldier Boy said, quietly, "That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and _faithfully_ discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter."

Riley blinked, and stared at him. Soldier Boy shrugged, wearing a very slight smile. "Yeah, I know your damn words," he said. He cocked his head, those cold blue eyes looking up into Riley's. "You're an all right guy, Ri. But you were a piss poor excuse for a soldier, boy."

Riley's eyes bugged again, and he flushed from the neckline up as Faith started making choking sounds from behind Cordelia. Ghani lolled a doggy grin up at him from next to Faith.

"Oh, yeah?" Riley said, glaring down. "Best explain that to me, _boy_."

Soldier grinned back with no mirth to it. "Sure," he said. "Obeying unlawful orders without questioning or reporting them to superiors up the chain of command. Following an illegal and unorthodox command structure without question. Aiding and abetting in the unlawful detention of U.S. citizens and foreign nationals. Acting as a law enforcement official against the express wording of Constitutional law – or doesn't Posse Comitatus ring a bell for you? Allowing men under your command to go into battle with faulty, untried, and substandard equipment," he jerked his head at the blaster, continuing, "Desertion in the face of the enemy. Absent without leave from your command. Delivering classified information to civilians not in the need-to-know chain. Need I go on?"

Cordelia blinked, impressed despite herself or her personal lack of real military understanding. Hell, Soldier Boy knew his stuff, apparently...

"That classified information helped those _civilians_ stop ADAM," Riley said, "Hell, _you_ were one of them."

Nod. "Yup. And now you're gonna do it again," Soldier said. "Cause that thing is going to destroy _this_ world a lot more effectively than ADAM would. And if you don't," he jerked his thumb at Cordy, "_She's_ gonna put a bullet in you and we'll figure it out for ourselves. Tick-tock."

Sigh. Riley glared at him a moment longer, then looked to Cordelia. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I."

"Not half as much as you will if that thing breaks through," Goofball said. "Briefly, anyway."

"No. You never will," Cordelia said, seriously. Her eyes met his, evenly.

Riley slumped, looking defeated. "Come on."

* * *

.


	32. Girls Will be Boys and -

**Chapter Twenty-nine: Girls Will be Boys and Boys Will be Girls (It's a mixed up, jumbled up, shook up world)**

* * *

"_A truce between the sexes? Are you out of your goddamn __mind__, Jake? What __else__ is there to keep our minds off __of __onrushing death? Television?__"_ ― copied from the walls at Mary's Place

* * *

Riley led them across, in, and up to the full length mirror in the corridor inside of Lowell House, and Riley hung his head for a moment, sighed, and started the procedure for opening the secret door.

"I'm am so very much going to get yelled at," he said. "And then probably shot for this afterward."

"Wait, you hid the secret military complex under a frat house?" Faith said, shaking her head. "That just seems so... _very_ appropriate."

Riley whirled on her, glaring. "Look, you – " he jabbed his finger at her, "I may be willing to work with you in the group, but I don't like you or trust you, and I _don't_ need your commentary."

Faith smiled, and said, sweetly, "Move that finger, Iowa, or I'll bite it off and swallow it."

"So not helping, Faith," Cordelia said, sighing.

"Reforming, Cordy," Faith said, calmly. "Not a doormat."

Riley turned back to the panel, and after putting himself and everyone through the scanning, entry, and verification process, the mirror slid aside to reveal a gleaming elevator.

Well, most of them. When the green light scanned Cordelia and then Faith, the computerized voice said, "Retinal scan matched. Chase-Harris, Cordelia Persephone. Facial and Body Scans Matched: Chase-Harris, Cordelia Persephone. In System. Already cleared for Initiative Complex entry." (pause scan) "Retinal Scan matched. Lehane, Faith Michelle. Facial and Body Scans matched: Lehane, Faith Michelle. In System. Already cleared for Initiative Complex entry."

Faith blinked and looked stunned. So did Riley. And Cordelia for that matter.

"Ok, now that's just _wrong_," Faith said.

"No argument," Riley agreed.

Heading down in the lift, Cordelia glanced over at Faith, and said, "Pinky. Are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

Without missing a beat or even looking sidelong at her, Faith replied, "Gnarf. Gee, I think so, Brain. But where are we going to find a size XXL latex clown suit and a fifty-five gallon drum of personal lubricant at this time of night?" (beat) "Poit!"

Cordelia turned and stared at her for long moments, then turned back. "_You_, my frenemy, are a very strange and frightening individual."

"Coming from _you_, that's a compliment."

"Don't make me hurt you, Pinky."

"Gnarf. Sorry, Brain." Faith waited a moment, then said, "So, what _were_ you pondering, Brain."

"You know," Cordelia said, blinking. "That derailed me so bad that I have _no_ freaking clue."

Smirk. "All part of the service. We aim to please, you aim too, please."

"Oh, shut up."

"Gnarf."

At the bottom of the shaft, a long way down even at express elevator speed, they got out into a main corridor.

Riley turned to Cordelia and said, "Ok. Where to, exactly."

Cordelia opened her mouth, and blinked. Shut it. "You know, I'm not really sure." She looked at Soldier Boy, who shrugged.

"Not how it works, Miss."

"Yeah," Hyena Boy said. "We can't tell or show you where you need to go."

Cordelia glared at both of them. "_Great_," she practically exploded, wanting to tear her hair out. Or theirs. "You know, I am _so_ tired of this cryptic _shit_ from the Powers, and every other single supernatural thing I encounter and their cryptic fucking _rules_ that I could just _scream_."

"Whoa," Hyena put his hands out in a placating gesture, "Not like that, babe. Really." When she continued glaring, he sighed, "Nothing to do with cryptic or rules or nothing. It's just that... "

Soldier Boy nodded. "It's that, if we tell you to say, go from here to here, then you might miss what _you_ really need to see or do. And it all _ends_ for us. And _him_." He shrugged, "Because if _we_ knew what to do to fix this, we _would_ have already."

"Yeah," Cool Xander said. "It's all you, Cordy. And Faith. _You're_ the Outsiders – the ones with the perspective _we_ don't have. It's why you're _here_."

"Yah, 'cause, gibbering and drooling and painting on the padded rubber walls with Xander's shit?" Goofball said, "Not so much of the fun."

"Oh, for... " Cordelia shook her head, and then noticed Ghani quietly and gently straining at the end of her lead. She nodded and took off following the dog without another word.

After what seemed like a long way, they came to an archway with another keypad, closed off by a force screen.

"Wait," Riley said. "This is the detention level."

"Open it," Faith said, quietly.

He glared at her again, but began keying codes into the pad. When the force-field dropped, a uniformed Initiative soldier stepped in the way, aiming an M-16 at them. "Halt! No one goes past."

Soldier Boy stepped in front of the weapon. "Ten-hut! Stand down, trooper."

The soldier stiffened, but shook his head. "No, sir."

"Stand down," Riley said, tiredly. "They're all cleared. You can check with the main computer."

The guard looked at Riley skeptically, but lowered the weapon and stepped aside. "Sir."

They went down a corridor lined with open fronted cells closed off by force screens. All of them were filled with monsters of various types. Including a nude, emaciated Spike, the bleach blonde hair slowly turning brown from the roots up. Cordelia passed him by without a word or much more than a glance.

At one of them, Faith stopped, looking inside. Her eyes narrowed. She spun on Riley. "Open this one."

He started to speak, then shrugged and key in a code and the force-field dropped.

"Oh, no... " Cordelia blinked. For a moment, she couldn't believe it. Then she _could_, and her gaze went cold on Riley.

A nude, filthy, purple haired Oz walked up, blinking at them and her, and scowling slightly at Riley.

Soldier Boy looked at Riley and raised an eyebrow. Riley flushed again, slowly turning a deep red.

"Cordy, Xan. Xan. Xan. Xan. And you," he said, glancing at Riley. He looked at Faith, raising an eyebrow. "Still evil?"

"Not so as you'd notice," Faith said, seriously. "I'm working on it."

"Cool." Oz smiled slightly. "Thanks."

Cordelia stared at Riley for long moments, then shook her head. She turned to Oz, frowning slightly in concentration. After a moment, the bruises and filth cleared away, and he stood there dressed in a set of olive drab fatigues.

Oz blinked, and looked down at himself. He raised an eyebrow and said, "They clash with my hair."

Cordelia's lips started twitching at the corners, and she said, "Deal with it, Benji."

He smiled a bit wider. "Let me guess. World about to end?"

"Yup."

"Lead on."

She did. Or rather, Ghani did. After another while, they came to a familiar looking doorway, and Cordelia blinked again, and stepped up to it.

"This looks familiar," Faith said, nodding. "Open it."

Riley did the keypad thing again, and they stepped inside. "Years of intensive training just to be a doorman in this place," he said.

Faith said, "Can I shoot him now?" indicating Riley with a jerk of her head.

Cordelia ignored her, looking around, and her eyes fixed upon one particular feature of the large room. A huge, blinding version of the thousand watt smile spread slowly across her lips.

"Hi Honey," she said. "I'm home."

* * *

A quiet alarm went off and the synthesized computer voice said, "Entry Protocols initiated. Three entities cleared for entry to Control Facility."

Lexx blinked, and then turned on his heel, striding back to the main control room. Alex and Xander exchanged glances, and trotted after him, with Xander doing his very best to ignore the panorama of history and alternities lining the walls.

Probably wouldn't be good to go into fugue shock right now...

The Control Room door cycled open just as they exited the tunnel, and Xander stopped in his tracks upon seeing who stood in the entrance.

"Hi Honey," Cordelia said, a blinding million watt smile spreading across those lips, and those hazel eyes locked on his. "I'm home."

He stood there frozen for an endless moment, just drinking her in with his eyes. Finally, a matching and lopsided version of the smile went across his lips.

"And how was your day? Tough day at the office?" he said.

"oh," she breathed. "The usual. Aggravating customer service issues. Bad fashion choices. Annoying co-workers. Equipment failures. And lousy traffic."

"Figures."

He looked her up and down slowly, his lips twitching. "Nice. But I liked the chain-mail bikini thing."

"Easily fixed," Cordelia said, tossing her head. She restored it with a thought...

Off to one side, a voice that sounded a lot like Alex's whistled and said, "Hellloooo nurse!"

At some point, he'd never ever remember how it happened, they were standing right in front of each other, chin to nose, her looking up, lips parted slightly and her eyes lit up.

"Groovy," he said, leaning forward slowly to meet her up-tilting face and capture her lips with his. A long, long time later, they broke off the kiss and stood there smiling at each other.

"Shut up and give me some sugar, baby," Cordelia said, her eyes sparkling.

"I just did."

"Oh, shut _up_." Cordelia put her arms around his neck, and moulded herself to him like a coat of paint, one leg coming up and around to hook a foot behind his thigh. And proceeded to mine for tonsils...

It went on endlessly, for something less than an eternity, and something more than forever and a day. It broke, finally, and Cordelia pulled back and away, her eyes shining, just about ten seconds before it would have become inevitable – and imperative – that he back her up to a console, rip the panties aside, and take her right there. In front of God, the Universe, and everyone.

And all his myriad selves. And Faith.

Not that Faith would mind. Hell, she'd probably join in.

He looked down into those hazel eyes shining back up at him and thought, I am _never_ letting this woman go. Then Xander looked her up and down, his grin growing wider. "Ok, now I'm _really_ jealous of Groo."

"Don't be. You took home the girl _and_ the chain mail bikini."

"There is that," Xander said. He looked across the others slowly. Fixed on Faith. "So," he said, his eyes getting a manic twinkle to them, "Still murderously evil?"

Cordelia stared at him like she would never ever understand how he did that, sometimes. When Goofball Xander said that, Faith went homicidal.

When the real thing did, she just slowly grinned so blindingly wide that her dimples went so deep they threatened to put holes in the back of her head. "Naw," Faith said, "I'm working my way up the Steps."

"Not the ones leading up to the gallows, I hope." Xander took three long strides and wrapped his arms around her.

"Hey!" Faith said, struggling. "I don't _do_ hugging and schmoopy crap."

"Time you started." Xander folded her in, then bent his head and kissed her on the forehead, let go and stepped back, grinning.

"Schmuck." Faith shook her head, rubbing at her forehead. "How do you know I wasn't lying about the Twelve Step thing?"

Xander shrugged, and his eyes went back to drinking up Cordelia. "'Cause if you were, my Cordy woulda gone all _white_ on us and have already blown you into little Faithy bits by now," he said. "She obviously didn't, so you must be doing _something_ right."

"Was a very near thing at a couple of points," Cordelia said.

"I'll bet." He managed to tear his eyes away long enough to sweep his gaze across the others. "Oz."

Nod. "Xan."

"That color clashes with your hair."

"So I said."

Xander looked at the rest. "Damn, we're multiplying. I'd say like bunnies, but Anya would growl and just leave us all here."

Lexx snickered, grinning at him. "You are vast. You contain multitudes."

Xander shook his head, smiling, and looked to Riley. "Ri, no offense, but I don't need you in my control room. Say good night."

Riley opened his mouth to say something, and blinked out suddenly. The main doors slid shut and clicked to lock.

He went back to looking over his doubles and made a visible point of counting and ticking them off on the fingers of one hand.

"Damn," Xander said, and stuck his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. "You missed Bug-eating Rennfield Xander from Dracula's castle."

Cordelia's eyes grew wide and her expression alarmed. "Wait- what- huh? But Ghani never – "

"Yeah," Alex said, snapping his fingers. "Shit. It won't work without him."

"Oh _no_!" Cordelia practically wailed, her hands clenching into fists down by her side. "I am _so_ not going back out there to get some- some- some – " she stopped and looked at him suspiciously. Damn. He was gonna have to work on his poker face, he really was.

Cordelia's eyes narrowed. She took a deep breath, and one long step until she was nose to nose with him, yanking his head down with her hand around his chin to look him dead in the eyes. "Al-ex-an-der. La-_Velle_. Har-ris. I am going to rip out your tongue and use it for a douche. Understand me?"

"I'd wise up and pay attention, Harris," Faith said. "She smacked Hyena Boy on the nose using that tone of voice, and he damn near broke in half and peed himself."

Xander reached up and pulled her hand away from his chin, wrapping it up in his own to bring it to his lips and kissing it. "It's ok, honey. You gave me enough crap over the paste eating thing. I don't want to spend the _next_ eighteen years being called 'Roach Eater' every time I forget to take out the trash."

She did her level best, she really really did, but finally her lips started twitching at the corners and she tossed her hair at him, grinning. "I would, too."

Something soft fell down and covered her upturned face that just _had_ to be turning her vision suddenly all red and translucent. She scowled and reached up to pull it off to find Xander practically turning purple with the effort to not laugh, and Faith making choking sounds.

She looked down. There was a pair of red lacy Victoria Secrets in her hand. With one leg ripped away...

She looked up. Yup. A ceiling fan.

"I give up." Cordelia closed her eyes, hung her head, and started laughing hysterically. "I _hate_ you. I really _really_ do."

"I know." He bent, tipped her chin up, and stole one from those lips for good measure, just because she always kissed like a house afire when she was pissed off. "It really must not have made _that_ much of a mental impact. My Ghani didn't take me to that Roach-boy one either." Xander smiled, "Sure the hell pissed _me_ off at the time, though."

"So," Cordelia said, as he stepped back from her. "Figure out what you needed to yet?"

"I'm thinking yes, mostly," Xander said, nodding. "You?"

"Pretty much," she said. Cordelia looked around curiously, and then shook her head. She met his eyes again, smirking. "Only you, Goof Boy."

"It gets the job done, I'm told," he said, shrugging.

Then her eyes narrowed and she dope slapped him.

"Ow! What was _that_ for?"

"Jeri Ryan _and_ Jolene Blayock? Jeeze." Cordelia folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

"Oh, yeah. Like I won't find Michael Shanks and James Spader if I go rummaging about in _your_ head?" Cordelia gave him a look that had '_So_ beside the point' written all over it.

Xander sighed, rolled his eyes and gave up. He looked at Faith again, frowning slightly. "Any idea why you're in this? Because, and no offense to any of the rest of you," he said, waving at the various other Xanders, "But _you're_ real."

"I'm not _even_ gonna ask how you know that," Faith said. "And, no, not a clue."

While they were talking, Cordelia's Ghani went over to Xander's Ghani and they sniffed noses, tails wagging energetically. There was a white flash of light, and then there was only one Ghani standing there with a doggy grin and a waving tail.

"Damn." Xander said, "I was kind of getting to like having my own dog."

"We'll get you a puppy," Cordelia said.

He nodded. "Well, I'd try that thing myself, but honestly, I really don't want to sniff noses or butts with any of you guys," he said, looking over the others. "Let's see... Hyena, Soldier, Cool Me, Goofy Me – looks like the gang's all here."

"Yeah," Hyena Xander said. "And while the butt sniffing thing wouldn't bug _me_ any, I think the others here are real grateful for your choices there."

"I'll bet," Xander said, snickering.

WHAM!

The room – and the world – shook and vibrated again. Everything rippled and wavered for a moment, lights dimming and coming back up. Then came an eerie eldritch howl in a million simultaneous voices that cut through everything came once more.

Inside the alcove, in her seal, the Primitive went absolutely freaking nuts again. Howling and hurling herself at the barrier holding her in. Sparking light flared, lights dimmed all over, and sparks flew everywhere. Shouts of alarm came from the control room and frenzied activity occurred around them once again.

Everyone jumped.

"The Slayer does not walk in this world," Tara's voice said, the Primitive's gaze fixed on Faith.

"Yikes!" Faith said, looking down the short tunnel. "Wow. She looks even scarier in person."

"And," Cordelia said. "I'm thinking this would be our main big problem."

"Main?" Xander raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the outside significantly.

"Ah." Cordelia waved a hand negligently. "Wizard You is keeping _it_ at bay for the moment. We need to get you integrated before we can even _start_ on that one."

"Well, I got this far," Xander said. "The floor is open to input on the rest of it."

* * *

As Xander and Alex had before her, one step into that short, arched, and impossibly long tunnel leading to the alcove, Cordelia froze in place in open mouthed shock.

Faith froze in place just a step behind her, Oz putting out a hand to steady her as she stumbled. "Holy fuck," she said, her voice hushed and almost reverent sounding. "The fuck?"

"Uh... " Cordelia blinked, turning slowly in place as her eyes widened and his wife's gaze flickered from monitor to monitor to image to image, scene to scene. Xander put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, as well, and she sagged against him. "Uh... what she said," she said weakly, gesturing vaguely at Faith.

"It hit us like that, too," Alex said, his voice gone soft and quiet again.

"Wow," Soldier said.

Hyena nodded slowly. "Really explains... a _lot_."

Goofy Xander shook his head slowly. "Okay. Now I _really_ want to get this integration over with. The inside of our head is a scary place."

Dazedly, Cordelia wandered up along the corridor to the seam, drinking in everything with her eyes. She scanned along the walls ahead of them at all of the nearly infinite pasts and stopped again, swallowing hard.

Rounding on Lexx, she pulled away from Xander and said, "The hell is this place?"

"The Hall of Alternities, and the Hall of Ages," Lexx said, shrugging. "No better name for them as of yet."

"Hey," Faith called up from somewhat behind them, "Here's your Wizard Xander, I think... " her voice trailed off for a moment before she added, "No. _Several_ of them. Wow."

"All these lives," Cordelia said, blinking. "All ours? But... _how_?"

Lexx repeated his explanation of the limits of conscious perceptions and linear time perception, the infinite divisibility of souls, and reincarnation.

WHOP! "This is all _your_ fault," Cordelia said, glaring at him.

"Hey! Ow," Xander said, skipping back and rubbing his arm. "That _hurt_, dammit! Just how do you figure?"

"It just _is_," Cordelia said. Waving at the rows of scenes, she added, "And apparently, it's _been_ all your fault for, like, for-freaking-_ever_, dammit. Now I have proof!"

"Fine," Xander said, huffing irritably, "Have it your way."

"I will, thanks," Cordelia said, her lips starting to twitch at him. "And – oh, God. I'm apparently _stuck_ with you for all _time_. And with... _her_," she added, gesturing at Faith.

"Hey! I didn't do it," Faith said.

"Oh, don't you worry," Cordelia said, her eyes narrowing, "I'll figure out a way to hang your share of the blame on you, too. Just wait."

"Oh, for crying out... " Faith said, then her brow furrowed. "Wait – Egypt, Greece, Rome, Old West... almost all of these other mes are Slayers too? How the hell does _that_ work?"

Lexx shrugged. "Not sure. But apparently, as near as I can calculate, some Slayers have such a close tie to the Slayer line and Slayer spirit that they're reincarnated over and over as Slayers."

"Duh." Hyena Xander said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh yeah? What do _you_ know about it, Shaggy?" Faith said, rounding on him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh please. Greater totemic entity," Hyena Xander said, "Archetypal spirit. We've been around for eons – we _predate_ the Slayer line. That's what that damned possession ritual was _for_, originally, before all of those asshole Primal Mages started perverting it to get their jollies. Or do you think that humanity drove out the major demons and the remnants of the Elder Beings just with fire and pointy sticks?"

"Wait, so you're... " Cordelia's eyebrows went up as well, and she stared at him.

"A protector spirit, yup," Hyena Boy said, folding his arms across his chest and staring back at her. "Like the Slayer essence."

"But... I mean, all the things I heard about that... but Flutie," Cordelia blinked at him, obviously boggled. Xander knew the feeling: it was a bit boggling to him as well.

Hyena curled his lip and made a disgusted noise in his throat. "Like I said: those asshole's ancestors perverted the rituals. What started _out_ as a way to draw upon the power of a tutelary deity became a way for sociopaths and psychopaths to slake their own bloodlusts and get in touch with their dark sides. And they passed down the perverted rituals through the ages, rather than the originals."

"Berserkers. Dog Soldiers," Soldier Boy said, nodding. Hyena nodded back, smiling.

"Got it in one, Dogface."

"So, you mean that you know about all this?" Faith said, gesturing at the monitors she'd been examining.

"Yeah. The original hyena spirit? Seen a _lot_ of Slayers over the millennium," Hyena Boy said, "And a _lot_ of variations."

"Huh. I kind of remember something like that from when we were all reading Watcher's Diaries, researching Angelus," Alex said, his brow furrowing. "Buffy's first Watcher's Diary, uh, Morrow or Murray or something?"

"Merrick," Xander said, nodding slowly. "The one that died on her."

"Yeah," Alex said. "Supposedly, some Watchers have been reincarnated as well over the ages."

"Wait, Buffy as well?" Faith said, scowling.

"Supposedly."

"Huh." Faith said, shaking her head. "I did some of the past life stuff with my first Watcher, so I knew of at least _one_, but all this... wow."

"And apparently, we've been your Watchers a few times," Cordelia said, her voice dry.

"Hey, can't have done any _worse_ than some of them," Faith said, shrugging. Cordelia's glare suggested that mentioning previous Watchers might not be the best move on Faith's part.

"Give it a rest, you two," Soldier Xander said, cutting across the incipient cat fight. "Shit happens and Wes had some 'o that coming."

Cordelia rounded on him, her eyes going wide and shocked and her mouth falling open. Faith's expression wasn't much better...

"Yeah yeah, okay, so – maybe the torture was a bit beyond the pale," Soldier Boy said. "Or a _lot_ beyond, even. But – he was supposed to be her guardian. He _failed_. He not only failed, he blew that thing the fuck up in the _worst_ possible manner at the worst possible time. You _don't_ treat someone with PTSD and battle shock by arresting them and hauling them off for execution."

Xander suspected his own expression wasn't much better than Cordy's or Faith's. Alex, though, and Lexx, were nodding and looking thoughtful. Hyena just leaned against a bank of displays, looking bored.

Cordelia blinked at them, closing her mouth firmly. "I don't believe that. Okay, yeah maybe on the PTSD thing, but after – "

"How come no gang of Watchers an' thugs came up to arrest Buffy and haul her off to Merry Olde after all the people she killed?" Hyena asked, his tone just as bored as his expression.

Faith turned her gape onto him, her eyebrows going up.

"Be– " Cordelia broke off, starting to scowl. "And I don't have an answer for that." She turned the hazel eyes onto Xander, possibly looking for answers, or confirmation, or maybe just for support. He glanced away, shifting uncomfortably...

"Catherine Madison. The zookeeper going into the hyena pit. Pete with a broken neck. The Gruenthaler twins: she set them up to shoot each other and killed 'em both as surely as if her finger was on the triggers," Soldier Boy said, looking impatient. "We wandered all through his head," he gestured at real Xander, "I _know_ you both watched a lot of that. And the bit with the Knights that said Key!"

"Accidents. And self-defense... " Cordelia said, trailing off a bit uncertainly at the end.

"Yeah." Faith nodded, and then said, impatiently, "But Professor Worth wasn't an accident."

"Yeah, that was murder," Cordelia said, lifting her eyebrows.

"And Buffy going after Faith with her own knife to feed her to Angel was premeditated attempted murder," Xander said, softly, still looking away.

"Crap. I don't have an answer to that, dammit," Cordelia said. "Wait – you're a soldier, you _know_ the difference."

Soldier Boy nodded. "Bits and pieces of soldier from all sorts of media, yeah, but some of the real thing mixed in, too. And I do, yeah. And it's a nightly war out there, and Faith is a soldier in it just like you and Xander are."

"It's not all guts and glory. Soldiers and warriors _kill_. It's what they _do_," Hyena said. "And not all the killing is right and justified."

"Didn't you say that if you'd known about the sexy strangulation thing," Cool Guy said, "Back in high school, that you'd have grabbed Daddy's shotgun and killed Faith dead _yourself_, Cordy?" Faith blinked at her, and then the corners of her lips curled up into a slight smile.

Cordelia's mouth opened and no sound came out. She closed it, swallowed, and shook her head, saying, "Well, yeah, but – "

"And meant every word?" Goofball said, shrugging and sticking his hands in his pockets. "But – didn't _really_ mean it? Wouldn't have done it?"

"Well yeah, I _meant_ it," Cordelia said, frowning. "And _yes_ I'd have done it! But – " She shook her head, and looked at Xander, "Help me out here, Dumb Ass."

"Wish I could, Cordy," Xander said, not meeting her eyes. He spread his hands helplessly and looked at her finally. "But I'm the guy who told Buffy he'd kill her if she got Willow hurt, remember? And the one that came yea close to doing that thing when she almost got you killed and _did_ get Willow hurt."

"Okay, guys, I appreciate this an' all, but no," Faith said, shaking her head. "I ain't looking for outs. What I did was _wrong_. What I did to Wesley was _bad_ wrong."

"Sure it was. Bad and wrong," Hyena Boy said, nodding at her. "But, shit – you think you're the first Slayer to lose the path? Think you're the first _human being_ to get fucked in the head and go way over the edge? Get real, kiddo. Human beings are the deadliest predators in the fucking universe. You make things like _me_ walk wide around you. Killin' is hardwired into you guys. It's what you do best."

"I'm not sure you're helping your case there, Fuzzy," Cordelia said, scowling at him.

"DILLIGAF," Hyena Boy said, sending a lopsided grin her way. "Don't give a shit. I'm straightening you, sisters, for you both are bent."

"She was going to murder Angel," Cordelia said, glaring at him. Xander snorted and rolled his eyes, and she turned the glare on him.

Hyena snorted as well. "Killing a vamp ain't murder, it's predator control," he said, his tone derisive, "And an exorcism."

"And if the vamp has a soul?" Soldier Boy shook his head, "Then it's a mercy killing as well. Or do you think getting yanked out of the afterlife and shoved into a corpse with a demon for ages did human Angel any favors?"

"Hey now," Faith said, holding a hand up. "Wait up there: Angel never did anything other than his best to help me. He didn't deserve that shit from me."

"She's _so_ right about _that_," Cordelia said, her gaze starting to smoke.

Hyena nodded, but didn't say anything beyond a shrug.

"Soldiers get lost too, Cordy. They go over the edge, and they even go over to the other side," Soldier Boy said, the blue eyes sympathetic on hers, and infinitely weary. "Sand Creek, the Sack of Troy, Wounded Knee, Mai Lai... it _happens_. It ain't right, but it happens."

"Ages and ages of human history," Heyna said, gesturing at the displays. "Ages and ages of Watchers and Slayers. Modern human mores on this shit are a recent eye blink. Watchers have taken a different view on this shit in the past, too – or you think that no Slayer has ever had to face and deal with an evil human mage or evil human cultists with no real good options other than the permanent one? Get real."

"Yeah, but we're supposed to be better than that now," Cordelia said.

"Watched the evening news lately?" Alex asked her, bluntly. "'Cause I ain't seein' no signs of it."

"Hey," Xander said, "To quote the greatest Star Fleet Captain: we _do_ try to make the choice – we are _not_ going to kill _today_."

"It's all about the choices," Cool Guy said, nodding. "Choose and choose again."

"That's not an exact quote, but it works," Soldier said, nodding. "Which is what we're talking about here. _Make_ the choice. And know when to make the _other_ one. And know that sometimes, you're _going_ to fuck up and make it wrong."

"Girl, it's good that you're not seeking an out," Heyna said, the green eyes locked onto Faith's brown ones. "Or makin' excuses. Hell, fuck that – it's _great_. Makes you better than ninety percent of the human beings out there. But give yerself a break. Spank yer inner murderer, and move on. Don't do it no more. Hell, _become_ someone who don't do it no more: that's what you been doing, and you're doin' fine at it, darlin'."

"Find some way of making peace with Alan Finch and Professor Wirth's families, if you can," Soldier Boy said, nodding, "or their ghosts. But make peace with yourself, too." He looked back at Cordelia, and added, "And let it go. You're no more civilized than we are. Than _he_ is," he jerked a thumb at Xander.

Cordelia glared at him, and then slowly, after long moments, the corners of her lips quirked upwards reluctantly. "Yeah, I'm figuring that out."

Soldier Boy nodded, the blue eyes compassionate on hers. "When all of this is done, we don't want to see _you_ beating hell out of yourself over that worthless piece of shit Warren. Or over capping Wesley in Xander here's head, either."

"Yup. This little jaunt down bad memory lane ain't just for the Boss's benefit, Wolf Gal," Hyena Boy said, nodding. "As important as this is for him. It's for yours too."

"Wolf Gal?" Cordelia said, arching an eyebrow at the Xander-shaped hyena spirit avatar.

"Leader of the Seeonee pack, hey? Lahini." Hyena's eyes glinted green and his grin went crooked and slightly fey. "Just wouldn't do to have the Boss get his head all unscrewed here, just to have his _mate_ go into a case of the gibbering guilts over that piece of crap Mears or that Wesley figment and have _you_ go and get all fucked in the head over it."

"You bet," Alex said. "There is not one single part of Dip Shit here that does _not_ love you with every single thing we are. Not one."

Lexx nodded and smiled at her. "The Unconscious here speaks truly. And _he_ would _know_."

"Well, I'll go along with that, honey," Xander said, nodding and reaching for her hand. She let him take it and squeezed his back.

"Good to know," Cordelia said, dryly. "And don't call him that. No one gets to call my husband a dipshit except for me."

"Hey, _I'm_ entitled," Alex said, his grin broadening. "I'm stuck in his frigging subconscious twenty-four seven. Talk about yer Hell Dimensions." Xander glared at him.

"There's killin' and there's killin'," Hyena Boy said, "And some people just need killin'. The world needs people who can do it."

"Yeah," Goof Ball put in unexpectedly, looking Faith in the eye. "Like the Main Brain here," he jerked a thumb at Xander, "said to the Queen: _You_ are _not_ a bad guy, Faith. Maybe you were, but you don't get to eat crap over that stuff forever."

"Oh yeah? Mister 'Are you still murderously evil'," Faith said, snorting. "Why not?"

"Because we're not going to let you, that's why," Cool Guy said, giving her one of the original's lopsided grins and a wink. "The people we love don't _get_ to flush themselves down the toilet."

Faith snapped her head back, looking at him shocked and wide eyed.

Lexx nodded again. "Yes. Not even when we don't know what to do about it or exactly how to stop them. Or how to help them."

"What he said," Alex said, nodding at her as her head snapped around to face him. "We've fucked up and we may have lost Willow. We came close to losing Buffy. We damned near lost Cordy. We lost you once when you lost yourself. We are _not_ going to lose you again."

Xander glanced around to see six pairs of Xander eyes gone hard and cold and oddly compassionate, all of them looking at Faith and Cordelia.

Seven pairs. He became aware that his were doing the mixture of hard and compassionate and slowly frosting over as well. "Damned straight we're not," he said, adding his own two cents in.

"All right, point taken," Cordelia said, "_Points_, all of them." Meeting Faith's eyes evenly, she added, "But I don't think we're done with this conversation yet."

"Hell, I know we're not, Queenie," Faith said, nodding back to her. She glanced around at all of the Xander eyes fixed on her, and ventured an oddly hesitant looking smile. "Thanks, guys."

"Huh. I just noticed, speaking of that earlier thing," Xander said, breaking the suddenly too intense eye contact. Gesturing at the bank of near infinite pasts he changed the subject. "If Buffy's been around for years and years, as the saying goes, she hasn't... ?" he trailed off, gesturing at the wall of imagery.

"Some lives are intertwined, some aren't," Lexx said, "Apparently. Buffy's a later addition. Her connection to you guys is through Willow, as is Oz's and Tara's. Well... Tara and Anya to Cordelia, now, but... "

"Ah." Xander said, nodding and starting to feel numb again.

"Makes sense," Oz said, speaking for the first time in a long while.

Arching an eyebrow, Faith looked at Xander and said, "And there I thought you were just talking out your ass on that connection thing, Xan."

"Hey," Alex said, "It's all _about_ the connections, Faithy."

Faith grinned, dimpling at him, and nodded. She looked back at Xander, who shrugged and looked uncomfortable. "That'll learn me, won't it?" she said, her shoulders squaring up.

"Deja vu," Soldier Boy said, "That sense that you've seen, done, or been somewhere or something before, like the man said earlier." He shrugged, and smiled at Faith. "Sometimes, you just sense it, without being able to articulate _why_."

"Apparently so," Faith said, nodding.

"So, soul mates?" Cordelia said, studying another set of alternate lives.

"No. Not in the Hallmark sense or the New Age Twinkie sense of the word, anyway," Lexx explained again. "More... souls intertwined, as I said," he said, shrugging. "Some souls just complement each other so well, they become linked. Connections are forged, and they just naturally gravitate towards each other from life to life, incarnation to incarnation. Whole people and lives apart, but much larger than the sum of their entirety when together."

"Huh. So, Dumbass," Cordelia said, looking at Xander, "Maybe we _will_ last until the suns go out and the universe grinds to a halt."

"And the next big bang starts us all up again," he said, smiling back. "Worlds enough, and time. Problem?"

"Not so as you'd notice, no," Cordelia said, the thousand watt smile broadening. "I've gotten used to the idea."

"Awwww..." Faith said, smirking at them.

"Bite me, Faith," Cordelia snapped. "Wait – no futures, just past and presents? I thought you said time wasn't linear here... ?"

"It's not," Lexx said, nodding. "But apparently, the Boss here fractures possibilities so much as he moves into them that we don't have enough processing power to track and show all of the branching probabilities."

"Damn," Xander said, "You're right: it is all my fault."

"Told you," Cordelia said, swatting him.

"Probably wouldn't do any good, Cordy," Alex put in. "If you're thinking what I think you are." She looked at him curiously, and he spread his hands. "Futures change, sweetheart. Even if you saw and retained it, by the time we're done here, you'll be on a different path and it'll have changed to something else. You're better off depending on your own abilities."

Cordelia scowled. "For all the good _they've_ done me so far in this."

WHAM!

The room – and the world – shook and vibrated once more. Everything rippled and wavered for a moment, lights dimming and coming back up. That eerie eldritch howl in a million simultaneous voices cut through everything came once more, along with screams and console explosions from the control room.

Lexx glanced back nervously. "I think we'd best get back to business here."

"Let's do that," Cordelia said, nodding. She gave a full body shiver, and Xander put his arm around her and pulled her close.

As he and Alex had done before, Cordelia's stride lengthened as they headed to the end of the tunnel until she was almost running up to the arched doorway, and she didn't glance at the displays again.

Faith trailed along behind them with Oz, still browsing the imagery and scenes.

* * *

"Huh." Faith said, her arms folded across her chest. She was standing next to Alex, with Xander and Cordelia next to her. The others were crowded around in the little antechamber to the Primitive's alcove, with Lexx standing back and slightly to one side, running calculations on his TI programmable and frowning.

And all of them were looking through the force-field at the Primitive trapped in her enclosure in the Seal.

For her part, the Primitive was glaring back and didn't look all that impressed with the attention.

"I thought," Faith said, looking at Cordelia, "That you said you knew why you were here and what you needed to do."

"I did. I do," Cordelia said. She frowned, looking slightly uncomfortable, and shrugged. "It's the whole 'how to' thing that has me baffled."

Alex looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. "Well, don't keep us in suspense. Clue us, oh Queen C."

She looked back at him. "Anchor."

Xander nodded. "Yup. The ole ball and chain."

He yelped as Cordelia smacked him upside the head. "Call me that again and I'll wrap one around your neck and drop you off the Sunnydale pier."

"Yes, dear. Ow."

She sighed. "That's why I was in this, right? Anchor you to Anya, and Tara, and the spell, and to reality," she said, and Xander nodded, slowly. "And, somehow, I think I'm the key to merging all of you together, once we figure out how."

"The ties that bind and gag," he said, and stepped away hastily, laughing. Cordelia glared at him.

"Laugh it up, Mister He-who-lives on Borrowed Time."

"Wait up, Xan," Faith said, holding up a hand. "I think she's onto something. I watched all that crap too." She looked at him searching, as if looking for signs of discomfort at that. Xander just shrugged and made a 'get on with it' motion.

She did. "According to some of the things Queen C here said, after the two of you hooked up again, you started going back more to your high school self. Getting more assertive, acting more than just reacting and shit, and not just drifting in the wind anymore."

Xander blinked, and looked at Cordelia. She nodded. "Huh," he said.

"I'm thinking," Faith continued, "She may have started pulling you together a bit even before the spell." She looked back at all of the expectant stares focused on her, and shrugged. "I'm done."

"Ok, well," Xander said, folding his arms and looking thoughtful, "What we figured," he jerked his head to Alex, "Is that _she_," Xander gestured to the Primitive, "is the key to the fracturing and the center of the whole reintegration. Only major issue is, she don't look all that cooperative."

"We have another major issue, actually," Lexx said, staring down at his calculations and scowling. "According to my figures, we got maybe less than a dozen more of those WHAM events before she breaks out of that seal and makes the whole thing either _real_ pressing, or kinda moot."

"She canna take much more of this, Captain," Alex said in a really bad Scottish accent, "She's gonna blow!"

"That's my kinda girl," Hyena Xander said. When all the women glared at him, he looked back, puzzled. "What?"

"My esteemed colleague's lame attempt at levity notwithstanding," Lexx said, "He captured the gist of it. In a nutshell, she's gonna blow right out of there."

They all looked at the Primitive. She folded her arms across her chest and looked back, glaring.

Sigh. Xander looked at Cordelia, and then Faith. They met his eyes in turn.

"Okay, I lied a minute ago," Faith said, "I'm not done. Gotta wonder: if she," she pointed at the glaring First Slayer, "Is causing all, or even a lot of this, in Xander's head -"

"Then what are the _similar_ remnants, if any, doing to the _rest_ of us?" Xander said, finishing her thought.

Cordelia met his eyes worriedly, arching her eyebrows. 'Willow?' she mouthed silently at him, and he nodded, his own expression feeling as sick and worried as hers looked.

"Got it in one," Faith said, her gaze flickering between them an a 'v' appearing between her eyebrows as she frowned slightly.

"We'll have to look into that," Xander said, swallowing hard and nodding. "We keep saying we need to improve our follow through."

Cordelia sighed. "Add it to the list," she said, "It's becoming a really _long_ list."

"Okay. Well, let's do it," Faith said. "We're wasting dream light."

WHAM!

After the shaking, howling, screaming, wavering, and dimming ended, Xander sighed again. He reached out and put his hand to the palm scanner controlling the force-field closing off the alcove.

"Wait, uh," Lexx said, nervously. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No," Xander said, "But it's done."

"Tick-tock," Cordelia said, looking nervous.

The force-field dropped and he stepped inside.

* * *

"Ok," Alex said. "I'm still not sure why Oz is here."

"Comedic foil," Oz suggested, leaning against the side of the archway.

They were standing in an arc around the outside of the Greater Seal of Solomon, looking in.

The Primitive lunged at her barrier, straining to get at Faith, who stepped back slightly before raising her chin and stepping back in, locking eyes with the Primitive slayer.

"_Slayer_. Alone." Tara's voice said. "No friends. No life. You live in the moment of death."

Faith scowled, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

"That's the old way," Xander said, leaning in slightly and capturing her gaze. His voice went low and intense. "We don't have to _do_ it that way any more."

"NO!" She hit the barrier in front of him, and everything flickered and dimmed. There was the zorching sound of a console exploding, and someone in the control room called to sickbay for medics.

"Yes." Cordelia said. "Slayers can do all that now. School. Friends. Family. Annoying little sisters. Lovers." She held up her left hand, fingers spread, and added, "And _mates_."

"No. No friends. No Family. No _mate_." Tara's voice snarled. "Male!" she screamed and lunged at Xander again. "No male. No _mate_."

"Yeah. But you're not really the Primitive Slayer, are you," Xander said, slowly, a look of puzzlement in his expression. "Or First Slayer or whatever."

"Huh." Faith said, cocking her head and looking thoughtful. "No... you're not."

"SLAYER!" Tara's voice howled, and the Primitive threw herself at the barrier again. "Killer! Death. Your gift is Death!"

"Yeah. I'm the Slayer," Faith said, nodding. "But you... _you're_ all in _his_ head. A _male_."

"And she's _The_ Slayer, also," Cordelia said. "Head of the line, now." Faith looked at her, startled.

The Primitive _stilled_, as still as a vampire, looking back at Cordelia with a terrifying intensity.

"Yeah," Xander said, slowly. "You're a fragment. Like Hyena, like Soldier, like Humpty and Dumpty here. Like Alex."

"I'm not a fragment," Alex said, as Cool and Goofball went 'Hey!' at Xander's choice of nicknames. "I'm your subconscious – I'm integral."

Xander nodded, waving it off.

Faith looked at her even more intently. "But you – you're an echo. Maybe connected to the real thing, but a leftover fragment."

"And if you don't accept that, don't reintegrate, you die," Cordelia said. "You take yourself, them, Xander, me, and the current Slayer all down with you," she finished.

"And killing the current Slayer while she's in my head in the Never Never?" Xander said, "I'm not sure what that'd do, but I'm going out on a limb here and guessing it'd be _bad_."

"And," Cordelia held up her left hand, with her wedding ring pressed almost to the outer edge of the seal, "You take out the entire future. Everything Xander is and could be, and me also. And our children. _Your_ children."

The Primitive jerked back like an affronted cat, staring at Cordelia. They locked eyes with each other.

WHAM!

When the shaking, screaming, howling and wavering was done again, Faith leaned in also, her eyes intent upon the Primitive's.

"And when that happens, you give that _thing_ out there the satisfaction of going back to its bitch master and bragging about how it killed us all and _you_ let it," Faith snorted, a sharp derisive sound. "I thought you were a _Slayer_."

The Primitive jerked and recoiled even farther back, snarling. Faith locked gazes with her, not relenting. "_Slayer,_" Faith said, "We _fight_ monsters. We don't _let_ them run amok." She shook her head slowly. "Not any more."

WHAM!

They all ignored it and the accompanying discordant howl and commotion. Even the Primitive Slayer.

"Join with us," Cordelia said. "Put my mate back together. Fight with us. And let us help you."

"One for all, and all for one," Xander said. "What have you got to lose at this point?"

The Primitive stared at him. Then she looked at Cordelia, at Faith, and back to Cordelia.

"You don't _have_ to be alone anymore," Cordelia said. "You can be a part of something."

"Connected," Faith said, glancing sidelong at Xander with a peculiar quirk of the lips.

Cordelia nodded. "And yeah, he's a male with all that goes with it. Underwear on the floor – "

"Not to mention the ceiling fan," Xander said, smirking. Cordelia whopped him without looking.

"– obsessive interest in sex, bad action movies, and tits," Cordelia continued, "But he's also more in touch with his female side than most guys I know."

The Primitive stared at each of them in turn. Then her chin jerked up and down.

Once.

* * *

"You _sure_ you know what you're doing?" Lexx said, looking nervous.

"Nope." Cordelia said.

"But it's the only game in town," Xander said.

"Let's get 'er done," Faith said.

They were arrayed in an arc around the outside of the Seal, all of them. With the exception of Alex who leaned on the other side of the archway from Oz, and Lexx who stood just outside of the entrance to the alcove.

And Ghani, who was laying on the floor by Lexx's feet, head on her paws.

Cordelia stood next to Xander on his left, with Hyena, Dork, Cool Guy, and Soldier on his right, and Faith to the right side of Soldier. All of them were just a bit less than an outstretched arm's length from the other. Together, they just barely reached all the way around the outside of the Seal. There was a shift, suddenly, reality rippling before their eyes, and the seal suddenly resembled an open transporter with the circles and designs taking the form of individual transporter pads.

Of course, Xander thought. Might as well complete the Star Trek theme... No transporter console and controls, though. Everyone blinked, and then Cordelia shook it off, visibly ignoring the reality shift. She _did_ glance sidelong at Xander, however, quirking an eyebrow.

He shrugged back at her in response. The fact that the Primitive was now wearing a feminine Enterprise uniform from the Scott Baklua series only added to the surreality. Xander decided to ignore that as well...

Oh, of course. Useless Kirk and Evil Kirk. Naturally _his_ mind would translate all of this into a transporter accident.

"Hands." Cordelia reached up and took Xander's left hand with her right, fingers intertwining. Each in turn did so with the person next to them, Faith finally reaching over to link hands with Cordelia on the other side –

– "Wait," Oz said. Everyone looked at him as he left his leaning stance in the archway and walked over to stand between Faith and Cordelia. He held his hands up to either side as everyone shuffled to make room for him.

"What are you doing, Oz?" Xander asked. He didn't sound disapproving, just curious.

"Had a hunch," Oz said. He shrugged. "I've learned to trust my instincts when they tell me something."

"Had to be a reason why Ghani led us past him," Cordelia said. Xander shrugged, and nodded, smiling slightly.

Oz linked hands and intertwined fingers with Cordelia and Faith, closing the circle with the Primitive in the center.

WHAM!

The lights dimmed, and more of the seal did as well. Dust drifted down from the ceiling on that one.

"Break the Seal," Xander said.

"Ok. Sure hope you know what you're doing, Boss," Lexx said.

"Not a clue," Xander said, looking into Cordelia's eyes from the side. She nodded.

Lexx stepped in and turned to the alcove wall, reaching up and doing something to an embedded PADD that suddenly appeared near the doorway. A line of blue light cut through a segment of seal and broke it. Everyone froze, watching the Primitive and holding their breath.

She didn't move, only stared at them.

"Oh!" Cordelia's back arched, and her head went back as her eyes turned white and she started to glow. Everyone in the joined circle arched backward also, their hips jerking as their heads went back.

The Primitive howled in the center of the circle.

The transporter pads began to glow and everything went suddenly _white_.

* * *

"Whoa. Now _that_ was a rush," Faith said, her eyes opening. "I may have to give up regular sex."

Everyone stared at her, and she looked thoughtful for a moment. "Naw," she said, finally.

They were the only ones left around the transporter -slash- Seal. The Primitive, Hyena Xander, Goof Boy, Cool Xander, and Soldier Boy were gone.

"So, how are you now," Cordelia said, a worried expression on her features. "Any different?'

"Hrmm. Somehow, I'm feeling... " Xander said, "_Much_ better now." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "And oddly full."

Oz snickered, and Xander looked over at him, grinning.

Cordelia rolled her eyes and exchanged looks with Faith. "Yeah, _he's_ all back to normal."

Xander winked at Oz, waggled his eyebrows, and suddenly swept Cordelia into his arms.

"Hey!" Cordelia began, startled, "Mrpph!"

Xander bent in and thoroughly kissed hell out of her, until her eyes closed and she melted and moaned into his mouth, one foot hooking behind his leg.

They held the kiss for a long while, Lexx and Alex grinning at them and each other, and then Xander finally broke off and stepped back slightly.

Cordelia shook her head, and opened her eyes sleepily.

"Groovy. Now I got the full set," Xander said, smirking.

SLAP! His head jerked back and his grin widened and went all lopsided.

"Ooooh," Cordelia's eyes narrowed as Faith started laughing. "And just how many Cordelias _did_ you collect while you were out tom-catting about?"

Xander looked at Alex and raised an eyebrow. Alex looked thoughtful and then raised two hands with seven fingers up.

"That many, huh?" Xander looked taken aback, then grinned broader. "Gotta catch 'em all."

"And an Ampata. And a Kendra. And an Anya," Alex said. (beat) "And a Faith. Twice."

_Smack!_ Cordelia glared at him.

"Oh, come on. _Faith_." Xander spread his hands and raised an eyebrow at her. "Hell, _you'd_ hit that."

She heard choking noises and looked over to where Faith was practically bent in half, with one hand holding her stomach and a hand over her mouth, trying to smother laughter.

"Oh, shut up." Cordelia shook her head, glaring back at him. "And what are _you_ smirking at?"

"I'm not sure," Xander said, slowly. "We never classified you."

_SMACK!_

"Oy," Cordelia said, glaring at him and shaking her head. "That does it, I'm getting a leash for you. And a muzzle."

"Yeah," Xander said, smiling down into her eyes, "But now I got the genuine, accept no substitutes original. And I'm not letting go."

"Promise?"

"You bet."

"Uh, not to bitch about it or nothing, but why are you two still here?" Faith asked, looking at the remaining two Xanders.

"Like I said," Alex said, "_We're_ not fragments."

"Yup." Lexx nodded. "We're regular parts of the Boss here. Subconscious and Collective Unconscious." He smiled, "And now that the Id and Superego are back where they should be, everything should be a lot easier to manage around here."

"Ah. Is this one of those," Faith said, frowning slightly, "Ten percent of your brain things?"

"Naw," Alex said. "You use _all_ your brain. One hundred percent."

"Just not all at _once_," Lexx added.

WHAM!

The lights dimmed again.

Lexx looked suddenly worried, and bent his head to punch numbers hastily. "Uh... " he whipped off his glasses and started cleaning them with a handkerchief, looking oddly Giles-like. "Don't want to rush this – "

"But you are going to rush this," Oz said.

"Yeah." he shook his head, replacing his glasses. "By my calculations, you guys need to _do_ something about that _thing_, like soonest."

"Our cue," Xander said, sighing. Outside of the alcove, Ghani stood, shaking herself all over. She whined, looking intently between Cordelia and Xander.

"Yeah, well," Alex stuck his hand out. "Been good working with you, like, personally, Boss."

Xander shook with him, and then with Lexx.

"Likewise," Lexx said, smiling broadly. "Uh, don't take this the wrong way, Boss, but... _don't_ come back."

"Hah! Yeah, rather not."

They stepped out, Oz with them, and Cordelia picked up the grip of Ghani's lead. Ghani led them to the main door out from the control room, and as it slid aside, they stepped through –

– And out into the Quad of the old, blasted and devastated Sunnydale High school.

* * *

.


	33. I Done Two Tours of Duty in Vietnam -

**Chapter Thirty: I Done Two Tours of Duty in Vietnam (And I Came Home With a Brand New Plan)**

* * *

"_Am I reading too much into all that innuendo, or did you in fact just connive to assassinate Gregor in one breath, offer to cuckold him in the next, accuse your father of homosexuality, suggest a patricidal plot against him, and league yourself with Cavilo__ – __what are you going to do for an encore?__"_

_._

"_Depends on the straight lines._" ― Elena and Miles Vorkosigan (The Vor Game)

* * *

It figured, Xander thought. Just can't ever seem to get away from the damned Hellmouth. Once it gets its tentacles into you, it just keeps dragging you back.

"Gah! I swear, I will be _so_ damned glad to put this place and this whole freaking hell-hole of a town behind me for_ever_," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes.

Faith and Oz simply gazed around them without commentary, Faith checking her weapons.

"Planning to come with, Oz?" Xander asked, curiously.

Oz shrugged. "I'll either show up there or stay here. I'm easy."

"Well," Cordelia said, "The assist might not go amiss."

"Figured," Oz said, with a nod. "I've picked up a few tricks."

Ghani led them from the Quad into the school, and through the old cafeteria, down the main hall and in through the blasted door of the shattered library. Once in, she led them to the back, past the counter and through the door leading to what was once Giles' old office.

Inside, there was rubble and an opening in the floor to a long, narrow staircase.

Leading down, naturally.

"Just nothing good ever comes from going into a hole in the ground near the Hellmouth," Xander said. "Resurrecting Buffy with CPR aside," he added after a moment's consideration.

"And even that had its downside," Cordelia said. They all looked at her, and she said, "What? I was talking about Kendra's death. Although that whole 'Angel running around soulless killing people' thing could have been avoided, too."

"Cordy," Xander said. "Your mouth is opening and words are coming out. This just never ends well."

"Bite me, Mr. Harris-Chase," Cordelia said, crossing her arms and huffing to blow straggles of hair away from her eyes.

"Later, dear," he said, and winked at her. After a moment, she grinned back.

"All, right," Faith said. She looked to where Ghani was looking intently at the stairs, not quite straining at the end of the lead. "I got point," she said, holding her hand out for the lead and drawing a blade.

WHAM!

The eerie cacophony of discordant multi-voiced howling came again, and the whole world shook and wavered for several minutes this time.

Cordelia surrendered the leash hastily, her eyes wide. "Lead on."

Long, dark staircase, leading deep, deep into the earth. After a short distance, Cordelia began to glow softly.

"Cool!" Xander said, with a low, appreciative whistle. "Now I can read in bed with the lights off."

"_Bite_ me, Harris," everyone said in unison with Cordelia. She glared at them, and huffed.

At the bottom, finally, the stairs let out onto a broad, oval cavern. In the center of which was a shallow depression containing a weird looking metal seal inset into the ground.

They stood looking down at it for a few long minutes. It had various arcane symbols inlaid, and in the center, a goat-like face with curling ram's horns coming from the fore-head.

"This just _can't_ be good," Cordelia said, looking down at it. Ghani whined and strained at the lead, pulling towards the seal.

"I was right. Little Timmy _is_ stuck down the Hellmouth," Xander said, only partly tongue in cheek. Ghani turned her head and gave him a disgusted look, then shook herself all over from tail to nose.

"Huh." Faith said, looking around, "Going by the turns and twists we took, I figure we _are_ right under the old Library."

"That didn't help, Faith," Cordelia said.

"All about the symbolism," Oz said.

Everyone looked at him. He looked back, raising an eyebrow. "Hellmouth. Gateway between dimensions, right?" he said. "Makes sense it's a gate between here and wherever you're headed, also."

"Huh."

Faith shrugged. She looked down at Ghani. "'k, Lassie. Hope you know what you're doing, 'cause if not?" She shrugged, "I'm telling mom on you later."

She let go the leash, and Ghani took a short run, jumped, and leapt and disappeared with a flash through the still unopened Seal.

Faith looked around, flashed a wide, fey grin at everyone, and said, "Here's mud in your eye," and jumped in after.

She also disappeared with a flash of light.

"Well, hell," Cordelia said. After a brief moment's reflection, she restored the oxblood leather armor ensemble, and the braid. She kept the cloak, though.

Xander took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "Let's hear it for practical combat wear," he said, "Especially when it keeps all the sexy."

"All right," Oz said. He jumped and flashed out also.

Before they leapt in, as Cordelia began to step forward, Xander tugged on her hand. She turned to him, raising her eyebrows inquiringly.

"Before we jump," Xander said, his expression curious and serious for once, "Our _children_? Is there, uh..."

Cordelia blinked at him in momentary confusion, and then her expression cleared and she grinned. "Something you should know?" She shook her head, "No. Although I _was_ tempted to leave you on the hook there, Mister."

"Oh." Xander said, nodding slowly. "Then what you said back there to the Primitive... "

"Our _eventual_ children, Doofus," Cordelia said, "Not now, jeeze. Please – a single, sexually active woman in her twenties in L.A.? I've been on the pill for years, going back to our Sophomore year at least."

"Ah."

"Oh." Cordelia searched his eyes deeply. "Uh... Disappointed?"

"No!" Xander shook his head, then gave her a rueful half grin, "Well... maybe a little bit," he said.

"Someday, maybe," Cordelia said, leaning in to kiss him. "After we get this whole thing with the Powers and all that cleared up. We'll talk."

"Right."

Cordelia stepped forward again, Xander at her side and still holding her hand.

"I feel kind of like I'm about to disappear up my own asshole," Xander said.

"eww."

They both jumped together. There was a bright flash.

And once again, everything went _white_.

* * *

It was sex on the beach, with grains of sand getting everywhere. It was Godiva chocolate and cyanide. It was free fall without a parachute, just those little glider wings. It was arsenic and old lace and Amontillado. It was silk sheets and honey and Playboy bunnies. It was barbed wire and razor blades. It was coffee that tasted like fresh brewed coffee _smells_, first thing in the morning, and it was frozen chilled Jameson's right before going to bed. It was orgasms and dry humping. It was watching Plan 9 From Outer Space with just the right combination of friends, and watching 2001 with the wrong one.

It was screaming all the way down, feeling Cordelia's hand clasped in yours, and feeling her soul wrapped around your own.

It was the best sex on the very best acid, right at that point where you peak – in both senses – and knowing there's the long slow gentle coast to the bottom ahead... It was hitting the wave just right, and catching the curl... it was nailing that perfect take off on a skateboard –

– Right before it dumps you on your ass at the feet of one of the most beautiful girls you'd ever seen.

It picked him up and swept him along, Cordelia's fingers intertwined in his; feeling her screaming and laughing within him –

– And it dropped him out on his feet with a grin and a wild exhilarated gleam in his eye with a howling monster from the depths of Hell prowling at the edges of a glowing barrier before him and with the woman he loved still holding fast to his hand.

"Damn," Xander said, laughing. He looked over at Cordelia and saw her laughing back at him, with him. "Not _quite_ better than sex, but it'll do in a pinch."

Xander looked around, wildly, and saw Oz landed in a crouch with Ghani standing near his feet. He saw Faith landed in a half crouch, a wild exhilarated grin on her face, her fingers on one hand spread and barely touching the ground, the other holding a glowing blade. He saw the hideous eldritch thing prowling the edge of the glowing barrier around them, and he found himself standing next to Cordelia in the center of a version of the glowing diagram that had started all of this. Oz, Ghani and Faith were occupying the other inner circles, he noticed.

He saw himself, standing in between the biggest cat and the most huge freaking dog he'd ever seen, wearing hat and duster and eye-patch and with a glowing staff in his hand, grinning at them.

"I see you found him," Wizard Him said to Cordelia. "Was beginning to wonder."

She slipped an arm around Xander's waist, and grinned over at him. "Piece of cake."

"Kinda doubt that," Wizard him said, "But any landing you can walk away from... "

He walked over and dragged the end of his staff carefully through the very outermost line of the outer pentacle, breaking the circle and releasing the energies. Letting them out.

"Oh, and," he said, giving her a careful once over. "I _like_ the outfit."

"Oh, shut up."

"It had its moments in there," Xander said to himself. "But it all came out in the wash."

"All back together, Kid?"

"Yup."

WHAM!

The barrier flared and glowed as the eldritch, howling thing hit it and bounced back.

Ghani yelped and did her best to hide behind the huge Tibetan Mastiff next to Wizard him, who gave her a bemused look.

"I'd ask who your friends are," Wizard Xander said, "But I'm thinking that social niceties are best saved for later."

"Works for me," Faith said. Oz nodded.

They left the circle and went over to stand in a small array next to Wizard Xander, looking out.

"When you said 'eldritch horror', you weren't joking, were you, C?" Faith said.

"Not so as you'd notice."

"Hell is that thing?" Faith looked over to Wizard Xander for the answer.

"Hmm. Been studying on that while your friend here was gone," he said, indicating Cordelia with a jerk of the head. "I think it's a ~*~!~#," he made an indescribable noise deep in his throat. "Has a name that's mostly unpronounceable, but it sounds like a cross between Klingon Opera and an Ogre gargling with barbed wire."

"How very descriptive of you," Cordelia said.

"Thank you, I try," Wizard Xander flashed her a grin. "And it comes from the very far reaches of the more mystical areas of the Never Never. Some pretty heavy hitters use them as thugs and mystical assassins."

"Heavy hitters, like," Cordelia said, carefully, "Oh, say, the Powers-that-Be?"

Wizard Xander pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. "They would qualify, yes."

"Huh." Xander said, studying the thing carefully, with a critical eye. "Like the energy creature from that old Johnny Quest episode. Only with more tentacles and fisty hands and mouths all over and teeth."

"I was thinking Forbidden Planet," Oz said. "When the monster of the ID is trying to get through the force-field?"

"Uh huh. Cross between them, maybe."

"What are you tw– " Cordelia started, then shook her head. "Never mind, some sci-fi thing, right?"

Xander nodded, still examining the thing. And he used the term _thing_ descriptively here. "So, Harry Dresden, huh?"

Wizard Him looked over. "Yup."

"You a magical thug, too?"

"You mean, as in, lots of power and good at blasting the crap outta things and destroying landscape and urban renewal?"

"As opposed to wimpy delicate magic, yeah," Xander said, grinning.

"Well," Wizard Xander said, cocking his head, "I've been known to re-landscape parts of L.A. a few times... "

"Oh, no. You're getting that look in your eyes again, Xander... " Cordelia said. "Last time you had _that_ look, I ended up in a floozy outfit helping you steal a rocket launcher. No."

"Well, you still have the outfit for it, C," Faith said, deadpan.

"Bite me."

Xander's lips twitched, then curled up in a half smile. "Well... if that barrier goes, you have enough power to take that thing out?"

"No."

"You were awfully decisive about that," Cordelia said. "Crap."

Xander nodded, slowly. He had the sudden awareness that everyone was watching him. He wondered what exactly that 'look' was that Cordelia was talking about. 'Cause he felt like an idiot about to propose the height of idiocy, personally.

"Blades won't hurt that thing, right?"

"That one might," Wizard Xander said, looking at the St. Tristam sword. "And that one," he looked at Cordelia's longsword. "But it'll get its licks in too."

"And that would be _bad_, I'm thinking. Ok, one last check, here," Xander said. He looked at Wizard Him. "It's all about the _intent_, right?"

Wizard Him looked at him sharply and raised an eyebrow.

"Magic, you know?" Xander said. "Skill and power, yeah. But also, it's visualization, imagination, will, and _intent_, right?"

"Motivation helps also, I've found," Wizard Him said, dryly.

Xander waved a hand at the eldritch thing. "Oh, I'm motivated all to hell and gone," he said. "I've got _motivation_ coming out of my wing wang."

Cordelia was looking at him with something close to open horror by now. Oz looked.. intrigued, maybe, but it was always hard to tell with Oz. Faith looked kinda like the way Buffy did that time Anya started talking about videos, Wesson Oil and their sex toy collection during a research session. Half incredulity, half horror, half bemusement.

"What are you thinking, Xander... " Cordelia began. He cut her off with a sharp gesture and a look.

She folded her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow at him.

"One last thing... " Xander had to ask. "How long can you hold that barrier?"

"Long while," Wizard Him said. "There's a pretty big pair of Ley Lines crossing above this spot, and I have power to burn if I want to tap it." His eye narrowed, and he added, "But – I may be waking up soon in my world, and things'll get awful abrupt here when that happens."

"How long were we gone?" Cordelia said, looking more than just faintly alarmed.

"You? This time?" Wizard Him said, "About fifty minutes. Between when he," he jerked a thumb at Xander, "First showed up the time before and when you and all that dropped in, about six hours."

"So seven hours all told, roughly," Cordelia said.

"According to Mickey, yup." Wizard Him shrugged. "Once when I was slammed this hard, I was out for three days. But you never can tell."

"Huh. Ok.. I lied. Couple more things," Xander said. He eyed the circle-pentacle and seals they'd landed in, and then the creature behind the barrier, and the distance between the two thoughtfully. "How fast can you close that pentacle thing over there? Once it's drawn shut again? And, doing it _after_ you drop that barrier out there?"

"Real fast, if I have to... " Wizard Him said, carefully. He suddenly looked at Xander awfully hard. "If you're pondering what I think you're pondering, Pinky, you may just be the only man I've ever met who's as outright dangerously insane as I am, you know that?"

Xander grinned. "And lastly, got any chalk?"

"Always." A slow, lopsided grin started to form on Wizard Him's lips.

"Xander... ?" Cordelia said, dangerously.

He shut her up by the simple expedient of grabbing her and kissing her 'til her eyes crossed. "Honey, you'll really, really sleep easier if you don't know any details."

Faith looked at him, and said, "I got a part to play here?"

"Well, gee, I dunno, Faith. Let me ask you," Xander said, "When you hit your teens and got your first boyfriend with a hot, fast car – did you ever play chicken?"

She blinked, then her eyes widened and she stared at him. "You've got to be shitting me."

"I only joke about serious stuff, Faith." Xander said, grinning. "We're the chickens. Only there's gonna be a bridge abutment behind us... "

"Oh, crap," Cordelia said, looking even more horrified.

WHAM!

The barrier flared and glowed as the eldritch, howling thing hit it and bounced back.

* * *

WHAM!

The eldritch horror hit the barrier with everything it had. Only –

– It was a barrier that suddenly wasn't there any more. Wizard Xander picked that precise moment to drop it completely...

It did what Xander had been hoping for: gave the equivalent of a hundred legged, tentacled stumble when it met a sudden lack of resistance where _continued_ resistance was expected.

And he could sense Cordelia closing the outer circle with the piece of colored chalk... then she was throwing herself to the side and away, Ghani crouching over her, huge leopard killing teeth bared and snarling from deep in her chest. The enormous Tibetan Mastiff and the overlarge large cat crouched at Ghani's sides, warding her flanks and warning the thing away with bared fangs and steam kettle hisses. A bestial Oz, looking like a cross between Lon Chaney's wolfman and something from the Howling, stood hunched and growling between the thing and the outer edge of the circle.

And there was a sudden thunderclap from way too freaking close to him as Wizard Him screamed something sibilant and liquid with too many syllables and cut loose with damned near all of the Power, capital "P" he'd been gathering, and hit the eldritch _thing_ with an incandescent bolt of blue-white fire through the carved blasting rod he'd taken from inside of his coat.

BZZZ-_KOW!_

Xander now knew why in the comic books, action sounds from people hitting and zorching things were always in all caps. White spots danced on the inside of his eyelids.

There was the most horrible sound he'd ever heard, suddenly. It came from a million discordant throats and voices, and it contained pain and rage and hideous, wordless agony and promised more of the same to be paid out.

And then everything went _white_. Cordelia nailed Eldritch Horror with probably enough blue-white energy to power Los Angeles for a year...

And eldritch thing made that hideous noise again.

"YOU WILL DIE AND I WILL MAKE OF YOUR BONES A FLUTE TO WHICH THY SOUL WILL DANCE IN TORMENT FOR _ETERNITY_!" there came a sound like the universe ripping in half in a snarl. "I AM THE WALKER IN SHADOWS AND YOU. WILL. DIE!"

It hit Wizard Xander's mystical shields like a sledgehammer, sending him sliding back twenty feet across the stone surfacing. But – they flared in coruscating circles of cascading blue-white light – and held.

"Bite. My. Shiny. Metal. _Ass_." Wizard Him nailed it again:

**BZZZ****HT****-**_**KOW!**_Thunder rolled in to fill the void left by air vaporized in the wake of that blast. Eldritch Thingy rolled backward, howling the screams of a thousand damned souls. Everything went _white_ again, as another actinic blue-white lance bit into it and the Roger Dean night lit up.

Evidently, Cordelia wasn't wasting breath on repartee. Just on putting out enough wattage into each bolt to frag a space station...

Huge, bristling Tibetan Mastiff, Afghan Hound, and too large cat swirled around the creature with a suddenly four legged and wolf like Oz, darting in to snap and slash at whatever parts of it they could reach. Slash and harry, snap and rend, and then dancing back split moments away from return blows and snapping teeth that would have ended _that_ dance for-_ever_ if they'd landed.

They did not.

"I AM THE EATER OF SHADES," Eldritch Thing snarled out, "AND I. WILL. DEVOUR. YOUR. _SOUL__S_! AND RIP THY NAME FROM THE AKASHIC ROLLS THAT _NONE_ MAY _EVER_ KNOW YOU EVEN _WERE_!"

"Yeah yeah," he heard/felt/tasted Faith saying. "And I'm the terror that flaps in the night. Let's get fucking dangerous." She raised her battle axe and Xander's blade, snarling.

Xander reached, reached, reached... latched on to that sense of Faith-ness and cast it down that fiery sense of blood and rage and connection and grabbed a hold of something that didn't want to be grabbed – a Name came to him, suddenly, written in his blood, bone, and marrow in the fragment of the Primitive Slayer that was merged into him...

"... _Sineya_," and it resonated through his mind –

– and _pulled_. With fucking _intent_.

And then dove to one side as he felt/heard/saw/tasted Faith doing the same in the opposite direction. Wizard Him and Cordelia called the animals off as the _thing_ surged suddenly forward...

Eldritch _thing_ landed in the center of the circle he'd just vacated with a howl of a million discordant damned souls all at once –

– and smashed dead fucking on into the spirit of the Primitive Slayer that he'd latched onto through the sense of her in himself and in Faith and her True Name and _pulled_ with pure fucking _intent_ and all the motivation in the Universe through the Never Never into the Dreamways from whatever bed of bones she laired upon.

And Wizard Him reached out his staff and sent out a pulse of Power, capital-"P", and closed up the circle and the seals.

With Mister Eldritch _T__hing_ and the Primitive locked up inside. Together.

And all freaking hell broke loose.

Rip out _my_ fucking heart and eat it, will ya. Bitch.

* * *

"Let's get dangerous?" Xander asked, raising an eyebrow at Faith.

She looked away, flushing slowly from the neck up, then looked him dead in the eye and held up a middle finger. "Sit on this and spin, Harris." She grinned, "I didn't hear _you_ coming out with any pithy wise-ass quips."

"I was kinda busy," he said. "Darkwing."

Faith stuck her tongue out at him and started laughing.

Cordelia said, in a kind of wobbly voice, "I am _so_ very never ever _again_ going to be on the same _continent_ as one of your 'plans', Xander. Ever!"

Her eyes were still really wide and kind of unblinking and glassy, and she had the track of a little bit of drool coming down from the corner of her lips.

He pulled her in closer, and reached down and kissed her on the forehead, and kissed the little drool track away.

"It's ok, honey. You won't have to be."

"Oh, sure. You say that _now_, but... " Cordelia shook her head, blinking.

Oz looked at them with a very slight smile, and went back to scratching Ghani's stomach with the fingers of his left hand, and rubbing the big cat's ears with his right.

The pentacle-circle-seals thing was empty once more. The eldritch thing had faded out after the Primitive Spirit had torn it into about a bazillion shrieking bits of energy.

The First Slayer had faded out as well after he'd thanked her very solemnly and carefully – and sincerely – along with Faith, and Wizard him sent a pulse of energy through the circle again. Speaking once more in that melodic fluid tongue.

But not before she'd fixated upon him with a baleful, black eyed stare that reached down into the marrow of his bones and chilled them. He had a distinctly uncomfortable feeling that not only were his dreams gonna be real interesting next time he slept, he'd really better watch his ass when he hit the afterlife.

Sineya hadn't been real damned happy with him. But she sure had done a number on Mister Eldritch _Thing_.

He didn't think the sincere and heartfelt thank you had helped much.

Maybe she'd heard the "Rip out _my_ fucking heart and eat it, will ya. _Bitch_." in the back of his mind? The 'bitch' _might_ have been a bit over the top...

Nah. Fuck her.

"Sindarin?" Xander asked, lifting both eyebrows at him.

"And Quenya," Wizard Him said. "Dresden used faux Latin, I use Elvish." He grinned, "It was either that or Klingon."

Xander shuddered.

"My turn," Wizard him said. Xander looked attentive, even though he was about out on his feet.

Everyone else seemed to be also. Faith would sway in place every once in a while, then blink and jerk upright again. After a few times of this, she sat heavily and leaned against the big mastiff, wrapping her arms around his neck. He gave her a doggy grin and leaned back into her, nearly shoving her over.

"Where in the hell did you get the inspiration for that _insane_ idea from?" Wizard Him asked, arching an eyebrow.

Xander grinned. Cordelia was going to kill him slowly for this, but it would be so very worth it. He cleared his throat and sang, softly and in a growly voice, "Oh, the DEA has a chopper in the air, and I wake up screamin' like I'm back over there – "

" – Learned a few things from Charlie don't cha know; and you better stay _away_ from Copperhead Road," Wizard Him finished, starting to laugh hysterically.

"WHAT?"

Xander nodded to himself. Detonation, right on time.

"Are you _insane?!_ You risked our _lives_ on a freaking _song_?" Cordelia snarled.

Oz shrugged and said, "Worse things."

"You are so very _dead_, Mr. Harris-Chase." Cordelia shook her head, sighed, and leaned more heavily into him. "Just as soon as I get enough sleep."

Faith shook her head also, a peculiar smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Soldier Boy?" she said, her eyebrows going up.

"Yup." Xander snickered, "How do you trap a booby? With a booby trap!" He gave her a fey half grin, "And once you pull the pin, Mister Improvised Anti-personnel Device is _nobody's_ friend," he said.

"_Completely_ fucking insane," Faith said, snickering back at him. "So, how much Alpo a week does Hyena You go through?"

"None. Had to give up the Alpo diet," Xander said, deadpan, "After it put me in the hospital once."

"Allergic," Faith said, nodding.

"Naw. Was crossing the street one day and got a sudden, irresistible impulse to sit down and lick my nuts and a car hit me."

She about fell over, holding her sides in hysterics. Cordelia looked at them like they were both insane.

"Well, I do _hate_ to cut this short, but let's get this on the road," Wizard Him said. "Before I wake up in the hospital and leave you guys stranded."

Xander nodded. He grinned again and said, "Oh, by the way: very damned impressive, Mr. Wizard Me."

Faith laughed. "Yeah. Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger," she said, a half grin curling up the side of her mouth.

"Fuck subtle," said Wizard Xander. "And I don't get angry, I just make things dead."

"Ooh! I like him. Can we take him home?"

"No, Faith," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. "We already have way too many pets between you and Jonathan."

"Yeah, our feed bill at Tractor Supply is gonna start to suck," Xander said.

* * *

"Ok," Wizard Xander said, reaching out to draw in the outer circle of the pentacle once more, hopefully for the last time. "This should send everyone back to their respective places, if we do it right."

Xander nodded, leaning on Cordelia in exhaustion, and her leaning into him, propping each other up.

"You two and the pooch _should_ go back to whence you came," he said to Oz and Faith, pointing also at Ghani, "Which should be the inside of his head, when they go home." He added, "But I'm thinking it's probably important to have all the circles filled, like they were when this thing arrived, for resonance."

Xander and Cordelia were standing leaning against each other in the big center circle, with Faith, Oz, and Ghani arrayed around them in the other three. Ghani gave Wizard Him a happy, doggy grin and wagged her tail.

Loveable but fucking retarded.

Oz nodded. "No worries."

Wizard Xander shrugged, "If not, we'll work that out afterwards."

Faith looked at him, and asked, "Ok. Gotta ask. How'd you lose the eye?"

"Freak bowling accident," Wizard Him said, deadpan.

Faith stared, then snickered. "Ok. No probs."

Wizard Him grinned, and then looked Xander in the eye. "Kid, you ever get tired of where you are and want to relocate, say, two dimensions over and third star on the left, give me a shout," he said, grinning widely. "Could use someone with your flair for improvised destruction."

"Will do," Xander said, nodding.

"Oh no," Cordelia said, looking horrified, "No offense, but _two_ of you? You'd be worse than an apocalypse."

Wizard Him laughed, and pricked a finger, reached out and touched it and the tiny drop of blood to the outer circle; sending a pulse of power through it. At least he didn't finger his prick, but with a version of himself, Xander thought... you just never knew –

– It was his last _conscious_ thought for an endless time. Blue-white flame ran along the outer edges and then in and across the rest of the design and sigils and runes. It flared up suddenly with a roaring sound, and when it dimmed, the pentacle-circle-seal was empty.

Everything went white, and they were elsewhere.

* * *

.


	34. Put a Candle in the Window -

**Chapter T****hirty****-one****: ****Put a ****C****andle in the ****W****indow ****(****'****C****ause I ****F****eel I've ****G****ot to ****M****ove****)**

* * *

"_I can face anything, except the future, and certain parts of the past and present.__"_ ― Ashleigh Brilliant

* * *

There was a wrenching sensation in her guts and a twist, and her exhaustion fell away to be replaced with nausea and a kind of numb, shivering apathy. Something had her by the hand, a strong warmth, and she knew, _knew_ she should grip it with all she had –

– and couldn't quite remember why and it slipped, slipped, slipped away...

It was white and very bright all round her, and she struggled mightily to swim back up toward the dark – failed, and began to drift, spiraling endlessly downwards and away.

There was a ringing, tolling sound in the brightness, and by the third time it chimed, she suddenly realized it was a _name_ –

– _Her_ name, and somehow, some _why_ it was critically im_por_tant that she recognize that. She began to kick and fight her way out of the clawing apathy and upwards.

Failed.

Failed and fell and fell away. Endlessly.

And strong hands grabbed her by the wrists and pulled.

Strong arms took her around the waist and she was wrapped in an endless warmth, and there was a surge, and a forcing upwards and the brightness was shattering and bursting around her –

– de-li-a.

– li-a Per-_seph_-o-ne _Chase__-Har_ris!

– _Cor_-de-_li_-a Per-_seph_-o-ne _Chase__-Harris_!

– _call_ thee, _name_ thee, call _thee_ – Thrice and _DONE__**!**_

She crashed through and fell into herself with a thump and fell into an endless, bright waking awareness of Xander's arms around her waist – holding her up – and she sensed/saw/felt/heard forms and figures and _place_ around her.

Cordelia Per_seph_one Chase-Har_ris_. She was Cordelia Persephone Chase-Harris and she was standing in a broad circle of flaring blue-white light with her husband's arms around her, holding her up, and a furry shivering warmth against her legs and a double pair of wide-shut eyes looking at her –

And she bent forward and threw up, Xander's voice whispering in her ear.

* * *

"Again."

Anya's voice was resolute, remorseless, and Tara wanted to _strangle_ her.

Exhaustion clawed at her mind, ate at her body. For the third time, in an endless time of threes, she drew in a deep breath, in through the nose and down into the diaphragm, held, released and let it and the exhaustion and tension flow and drain out with it.

She began the thrice be damned chant _again_.

As the meaningless Enochian words and phrases flowed past her lips – they _had_ a meaning, but it was a meaning she was no longer capable of grasping – Tara heard Anya's voice rising and falling in a rhythmic peal. A rhythmic _ap_peal.

Anya's voice, as remorseless, resolute, and controlled as the first time she'd released the burst of power and intent and taken a deep breath and said, "Again." Hours of repetition ago, it seemed. An eternity...

Awareness was sandpaper and vinegar against her skin and her _self_...

She could feel Angel as a presence against her; a sense of vast and endless strength and purpose, endless rage lashing from within him, deep hunger wrapped in chains of adamantium will, worry and concern and a biting fear, and overlaying it all, a deep warmth of bone deep trust. Trust in _her_. It wrapped her up like a cloak and buoyed her up, and she should _not_, could _not_, _would_ not _fail_ that trust –

She could feel Buffy as a presence against her; A fierce, blinding bright presence overlaying a deep and fathomless darkness and power, shot through with ripples of light. There was caring _there_, too – a caring so fierce it _hurt_, and was hidden between layers and layers of cynicism and loss and faintly mocking humor. That caring and that power wrapped her up like a cloak and buoyed her up, and she should _not_, could _not_, _would_ not _fail_ to care as deeply and well –

She could feel Gunn as a presence against her; determination and rage and bright fierce humor, quicksilver laughter, and an anger and loss so deep that it became a bone deep, marrow deep strength and clarity of purpose; a protectiveness so fierce and hidden so deeply it cut to the _quick_. That protectiveness wrapped her up like a cloak and buoyed her up, and she should _not_, could _not_, _would_ not _fail_ to protect as fiercely and well –

She could feel Fred – Winifred Burkle – as a presence against her; a quicksilver ripple of madness, slipping through the grasp like a handful of minnows; a bright, deep, cast iron-banded strength, boundless and brittle, because iron isn't steel and it shatters; a mind so vast and deep that it gazed upon her and swallowed her up and reduced her to integers, so sharp and fiercely curious that it took those integers and calculated her anew and made her whole and something wholly else than she was; quicksilver laughter and quirky humor and cat fierce vast curiosity. That curiosity wrapped her up like a burrito and buoyed her up, and she should _not_, could _not_, _would_ not _fail_ to be as vastly deeply curious and brightly fey herself –

She could feel Lorne – Krev'lorne'swath of the Deathwok Clan – as a presence against her; bright-dark pain and laughter and bone deep curiosity; an empathy so deep that it _hurt_ to feel, hurt to _know_; a sense of knowledge and boundless curiosity so star-bright and fierce it warmed her to the core; a vast skein of paths and doors and endlessly weaving possibilities; laughter and sorrow so sharp it cut; and an endless song in a thousand, million voices, a cacophony of music and joy and pain and loss and love so vastly jumbled together that it became a bright cascade of wordless sound. That song wrapped her up in a melody and buoyed her up, and she should _not_, could _not_, _would_ not _fail_ to join that endless chorus and twine her voice around and with it _for_ever –

She could feel Anya – Anya Christina Emanuella Jenkins Anyanka – as a presence _within_ her; bird-bright and _fierce_; determination and quirky humor and bone deep, core deep strength; a quicksilver well of power and magic so vast and bright that she burned her hands in the grasping of it and she wondered anew why the woman had ever _chosen_ to become a demon when that sparkling cascading well was alive within her; and oh – _that's_ why; and a flash of bird-bright curiosity mixed with repulsion and longing and _he_ was there, laughing and dark and loving and boundlessly fierce, wrapped in pain; and again – oh, I see, and then the knowledge was lost again but there was a flash of something ancient and powerful and vast and cruel and as remorseless as the sun. And a soft voice went "hush now" and the knowledge faded to insignificance. That determination and humor and quicksilver well of magic and brightness and ancient cruel power slipped within her and wrapped her about like a net, and _could_ not, would _not_ let her fall, let her falter, and she should _not_, could _not_, _would_ not _fail_ to join with it and reach out through the vast beyond to grasp, grasp, and _grasp_ again –

And suddenly she could feel... she could _feel_ another presence against her; young and bright and vastly old; nameless with a name she knew, _knew_, and it slipped through the grasp of her mind's eye like quicksilver and laughter; ancient sorrow that cut to the quick; bright and endless joy that cut even deeper; a vast cold and a boundless warmth all wrapped up in a vast sense of strength and responsibility and ancient power and obligation; all mixed together with love and longing and joy and pain, and bone deep loss and oh – _that's_ why – and _he_ was there, laughing and dark and loving and boundlessly fierce, wrapped in pain and bright dark armor; and again – oh, I see, and then the knowledge refused to solidify in her mind's eye. And that wasn't _important_ right now; she grasped that vast strength and joy and ancient power and wrapped it about herself like a cloak. That strength and joy and ancient power slid within her like a blade, and she should _not_, could _not_, _would_ not _fail_ to be as vast and ancient and joyfully powerful –

It suddenly _hit_ her, and she almost – but not _quite_, never ever for_give_ herself if she _quite_ – lost it in exhaustion tinged hysterical laughter: lesbian who never knew a man, might as well be a virgin: maid; Anya, young woman turned a vast and ancient power and back: the crone; and Cordelia, the anchor, she of the two demonic pregnancies Willow had laughed to her about, Mother...

Caster, Focus, and _Anchor_. Mother, Maiden, and _Crone_. Of _course_. She took the glittering surge of laughter and knowledge and amusement and wrapped it around her left hand and threw it into the spell...

– and Anya's voice woven over and in and around and through it all: "Cor-_del_-i-a Per-_seph_-o-ne Chase-_Har_-ris, I _name_ Thee, I name _Thee_, I _call_ Thee and _thou_. _wilt_. _ans__wer__ me_! Once, once again, and _Thrice_ – Thrice and _DONE_!"

– And there was a sudden sense of presence and brightness, beyond the beyond; a sense of purpose and knowledge and will and a love and longing so _deep_ it hurt and _had_ to be hidden away, down deep inside where no one would _ever_ see it; and silly, really, because no one could ever _not_ see it; cruelty and laughter; humor and affection; a sense of determination and steel and clarity of intent that went bone deep and anchored there; light and brightness; vulnerability and softness; and she reached out a hand that _wasn't_ a hand but a sense of will and _intent_ and grasped and _pulled_ –

– Felt Anya/sister/crone reach out a hand that _wasn't_ a hand but a sense of will and _intent_ and grasp and _pull_ –

– And there was a ripping, rippling flash and a sound of bells.

And suddenly a presence, _presences_ within the circle with them where there were no presences before.

Thrice, thrice, thrice and _done_.

Damn straight.

Let's do that _again_, only harder.

* * *

"... name _Thee_, I _call_ Thee and _thou_. _wilt_. _ans__wer__ me_! Once, once again, and _Thrice__ – _Thrice and _DONE_!"

Anya's voice pealed like a ringing bell and chimed on the last note 'til the glass in the high basement casement windows shivered and rang with it –

Thunder rolled and crashed outside the high, narrow casement windows.

Tara and Anya glowed brightly, white and gold and flaring blue-_white_, and Buffy's breath caught in her throat as she saw/sensed/felt/heard a scream of power, Capital-"P" release and pulse out around the circle-seal-pentacle thingy once more. And once again, even.

The candles dimmed around the outer edge and inner circle and then, flared, suddenly and incandescent. Ooh. That's a good word. She didn't even know she knew that one. Score!

Blue-white light flashed and then burst into a tracing of flame and light took hold on the lines and runes and sigils and raced around, joining and twining within itself until it met itself at the circle where Cordelia sat slumping and back around.

– And flared, suddenly and brightly, a leaping of blue-white flame that suddenly obscured the circle-seal-pentacle thingy and everything, everyone in it.

And that sudden pulse of power came again and surged out –

And Buffy Summers was never, _ever_ going to make fun of Anya again. Ever. _Or_ piss her off. And if she ever _had_ to piss her off... I mean, really, _really_ badly...

She was going to make _damned_ sure she _killed_ that woman suddenly and hard before she could ever get her hands on any magic stuff. _So_ suddenly and hard Anya would be waking up in Arashmahaar going "What? What?" before it registered.

Dead bang.

Jeeze.

Willow was powerful. Anya was freaking scary.

(And just _why_ wasn't she as scary powerful _before_, when it could have been _equally_ as useful? Like against Glory... )

The candles dimmed again, and the white-blue flames died and dimmed, leaving glowing lines in Angel's basement floor and figures standing in the circle-diagram-seal thingy with Anya and Tara.

And Tara was wide-eyed and saying, "Wow! Let's do that _again_, only _harder_."

Buffy sagged against Angel in relief, suddenly exhausted with tension and release, and blinked lazily into the circle, looking to see –

Uh. Brain freeze. No. Brain _lock_. Absolute Buffy-brain blue screen of death.

Control-alt-delete. Nope. Reset.

Buffy 1.01.1a crashed. Rebooting.

Buffy 1.01.1a crashed. Loading Buffy 1.02.1b. Initializing.

Now loading... Starting Buffy 1.02.1b. for the first time.

Enter Correct Time and Date: Yes/No/Maybe? Yes.

Set Password: Yes/No/Maybe? M4yb3.

Boot to Admin Status: Yes/No/Maybe? Yes, dammit.

Invalid response: Yes, dammit.

Yes (! dammit)

Add Dual Boot to Buffy-Linux 2.02.01a: Yes/No/Maybe? No (!)

Re-Initialize Graphic Co-processors? Yes/No/Maybe? (Sigh) Yes.

Re-Initializing.

Buffy blinked, shook her head, rubbed her eyes, and stared. Rubbed her eyes again, and stared some more. Her mouth fell open.

"Holy crap!"

Gunn said, "Whoa," from somewhere nearby. Apparently, he was having graphics control issues too.

In the big inner circle, the one where an unconscious nude Xander had been lying, a conscious (ok, semi-conscious – he looked out on his feet) Xander was standing. A definitely not-nude Xander wearing khaki cargo pants, a black kind of soft raggedy t-shirt with a snarling wolf trying to crawl its way out of the front, and an old stone-wash shirt of his open over that, comfortable looking red Converse high-tops, and his old distressed leather bomber jacket.

And a sword belt with a revolver holster on one side and that Acathla sword he'd picked up a long, long time ago from Angel's mansion. His small battle axe stuck through the belt.

And Rayban Wayfarers and a broad, lopsided smile.

No longer alone in the circle he'd been alone in before. And he had his arms wrapped around Cordelia. A Cordelia whose hair was back to its long, flowing chestnut rather than the streaky short blonde-ish she'd had when this started. (That was so _not_ her color) For a moment, she seemed to be wearing a full body kind of oxblood colored leather armory suit thing... There was a kind of a ripple, and then she was wearing a kind of golden chain mail bikini coin thing with dia- diafa- those gauzy skirts. High red, strappy lace-up boots. And a long red velvety cloak (matching the boots – nice touch) with a black lining, and a tiara-crown thing.

Oh, and a sword-pistol belt with a longsword kind of like Xander's and a holstered revolver. Too. Like, in addition. And a pair of Gargoyles and a huge thousand watt exhausted looking smile.

Blink. And an oddly familiar looking tall, long legged, blonde haired dog sitting crouched up against Cordelia's legs, giving everyone an _exhausted_ looking doggy grin and panting.

Cordelia suddenly looked oddly nauseous and then bent forward abruptly and threw up, coughing and hacking. Eww. The dog skittered sideways, shooting her a reproachful look.

And in the circle where Cordelia _had_ been...

Blink.

Uh. Brain freeze.

Buffy 1.02.1b crashed. Reboot –

Ohh _no_ you don't we're not starting _that_ again. I am so _not_ the Buffy-bot.

"Cool." A purple haired Oz stood in Cordelia's old circle, blinking around at everyone. Wearing army drab fatigues that _so_ did _not_ go with that hair.

He gave a slight smile and a very slight wave. "Hey. Buffy."

"Hey, Oz," she grinned rather dazedly at him and waved back. "Howyadoin'?"

And standing next to Oz, in the same circle, was –

Uh. Brain freeze. Buffy 1.02.1b crashed. Rebooting...

Buffy came back on line and a thin red haze fell over her vision and she felt herself going absolutely apeshit homicidal.

* * *

_Freeze Frame_.

Imagine if, you will, that there is a moment frozen in time, endlessly preserved with a pure crystal clarity in the warp, woof, and weavings of the web.

Imagine if you will, a dimension of sight and sound, just slightly askew from your own, existing in that frozen moment. We shall, for the lack of a better name, call it: the Buffy-verse.

Ok, let's call it the Buffy-verse 2.01a, because by this point, it no longer bears any single resemblance to the original Buffy-verse 1.0.

Two-point-zero-one-ay, because 2.0a is already taken by the Buffy Nightwatchmen 'Verse, which exists slightly askew and a couple of stars farther to the left, somewhere in the World's Dream.

Now, imagine if you will, that there is a small (medium) sized town (Pop. 38,500 and declining) called Sunnydale, California, just about two hours up the coast from Los Angeles; roughly forty-five minutes away from Oxnard, and about thirty minutes down from Santa Barbara. Home of the active Hellmouth. It wraps around and encompasses what would be, in our universe, Carpinteria, California.

Now, imagine if you will, an old formerly abandoned mansion in that town. Formerly the work of a genius known as Frank Lloyd Wright, it was once called the Ennis-Green house. Much like the Ennis-Brown house, except _that_ one doesn't exist in _this_ universe. Behind ornate wrought-iron gates, it sets somewhat back from Crawford Street in Sunnydale, on roughly five acres of grounds, and is perched on the edge of a low cliff in the midst of those grounds.

And in this universe, anyway, it is currently owned by one Liam O'Rourke, currently known as "Angel" – quite possibly the _only_ souled vampire in the world, and _definitely_ the only souled vampire Private Investigator in existence.

Imagine if you will, that there is a disparate group of unique individuals gathered in the large basement of this formerly abandoned mansion. Thirteen of them, to be exact.

We'll call them, for the sake of argument: "Angel", Buffy Summers, Charles Gunn, Winifred "Fred" Burkle, Krevlorneswath aka "Lorne" of the Deathwok Clan, Anya Jenkins, Tara Maclay, Alexander "Xander" Harris-Chase, Cordelia Persephone Chase-Harris, Daniel "Oz" Osbourne, Faith Michelle Lehane, and a large, lean, golden furred Afghan Hound named Ghani. And Ampata Gutierrez.

Did we miss anyone? No? Let us count to be sure...

Okay. Two of these individuals are nude (sky-clad) and seated within circles in a rather elaborate glowing pentacle-seal inscribed into the floor of this basement. They are Anya (Anyanka) Jenkins and Tara Maclay. They are _also_ powerful witches/mages, and Anya is a former (and unknown to most, current) vengeance demon from the stables of one D'Hoffryn of Arashmahaar.

Tara currently looks as through she's just experienced the most powerful magical geekgasm of her life. For the _second_ time in a row.

Two of these people are currently leaning against each other in near exhaustion in the largest of the glowing, blue-white fiery circles within the larger mystical diagram. They are Mr. and Mrs. Chase-Harris/Harris-Chase, and just a few moments ago, they were nude and unconscious – with their spirits cast out somewhere into the aether.

Xander, it has been noted, has balls. Or at least, he has Orbs. We'll take the other for a given.

The gorgeous and loveable-but-fucking-retarded Afghan Hound, Ghani, is leaning against the legs of the woman, Cordelia Chase-Harris, known as "Cordy". Or was – for Cordy's just upchucked all over the circle and Ghani's a bit wounded about that.

Fortunately, Cordelia hasn't had much to eat in the last several hours.

Ghani previously existed only in the minds of Xander and Cordelia Chase-Harris, for she's _technically_ been dead since Cordelia was fifteen years old. Presumably eaten by a grue.

Cordelia, it might be noted in passing, has had kind of a rough night so far...

Anya is the former (current) vengeance demon and Mage. She is eleven hundred years old, roughly. _Technically_ a crone, but don't call her that. It has been observed that pissing off the scary powerful former demon witch lady might not be of the good.

Tara is the younger witch. As she is a lesbian and (as far as we know) has never known a man (in the Biblical sense), she's _technically_ a maiden.

Cordelia is a former cheerleader and beauty queen with a current demon aspect, and it is starting to be realized that she's a bit freakishly powerful also. But _not_ a Mary Sue, as she is _far_ too bitchy to be perfect. She has had at least two demonic pregnancies so far (of a sort), so she's _technically_ a mother.

Together, while it wasn't intentional, and no one had thought about it earlier, they technically form a triad of Mother, Maiden, and Crone.

Which, as it might be understood, has fairly... _interesting_ mystical connotations.

Two of these other individuals are standing in the smaller of the glowing, blue-white fiery circles within the larger mystical diagram. One has purple hair and a bemused expression, what there is of it, and he is Oz Osbourne. The other is Faith Lehane, formerly psychotic murderous Vampire Slayer.

Both of these people were not _here_, nor were they _in_ that circle, mere moments ago.

One was in prison in Stockton, California serving twenty to life for second degree murder. We'll let you figure out which one.

The other previously existed only in the memories and mind of Xander Harris, as far as we know – the "real" Oz (and _real_ is a slippery concept here), was elsewhere, presumably.

Outside the diagram stands Angel, Gunn, the green-skinned and red eyed Pylean demon known as Lorne for short, and Fred Burkle.

Lorne reads auras and fates when people sing for him. He's also a hell of a singer himself. Fred is a theoretical physicist, a former unwilling inhabitant of Lorne's home dimension, and nuts.

Also outside the diagram stands Buffy Summers, who has been dead and resurrected at _least_ twice that we're sure of, and she is a Vampire Slayer. She _may_ be nuts, by this point.

_Some_ consider her _The_ Vampire Slayer. We're not sure at the moment if the Universe and the Slayer Line does so or not. She has... _issues_ (to put it mildly) with Faith Lehane.

We'll get back to her in a moment.

The other one has previously been dead since early in season two, some four or five years ago, killed during a previous episode.

That one is Ampata Gutierrez, who winked in somewhere during the last five to ten minutes or so, and the Universe is still adjusting to her reappearance.

Good. Our count seems to be accurate.

As does the program for our play, and as David Nabbitt recently observed: you really need a program when you walk into this performance.

Oh. And there is a strong suspicion that, following at _least_ one too many shocks this evening –

– Buffy Summers _may_ be about to go freaking berserk.

Lights. Cameras.

Action.

_Un_freeze Frame.

* * *

Homeward bound. Home at last. Stick a candle in the freaking window – home!

Xander looked around with a broad, lopsided smile. He took one arm away from Cordelia just long enough to whip off his sunglasses and hook them to the collar of his t-shirt.

Hell, he was even smiling at Angel, how weird was that?

Wait. Wasn't Cordy in a different circle earlier? And – sunglasses? Uh, wasn't he, like, sky-clad (stark nekkid) earlier? And why was Cordelia wearing a cloak and not nekkid too?

Uh oh. And add a liberal dose of 'Holy shit!' to that.

Ghani grinned up at him from where she was pressed into Cordelia's legs at her other side. And in the other circle, behind door number two –

Were Oz and Faith, dressed and looking pretty much as they had when he'd last seen them.

He was going to hunt down and _kill_ Xander Harry La-fucking-Velle Dresden Harris Wizard Him. Putz.

But at least he was feeling _much_ better now. And oddly full...

And... Oh. My. God.

"Ampata?" Xander blinked, closed his eyes tightly, opened them and blinked again. "_Ampata_? What are you _doing_ here?"

"Hi, Xander," _Ampata __Gutierrez_, mummified cold dead _Ampata __Gutierrez__,_ now no longer dead, and looking really warm and alive and a bit older, and _really_ pretty – was smiling brightly over at him and waving.

He'd say that he was definitely going to hunt down and _kill_ Xander Harry Dresden Harris Wizard Him, but he just couldn't find it _within_ him to be unhappy about this. Wow.

He grinned back at her.

Cordelia bent over abruptly and tossed her cookies. And...

Oh, crap. _Buffy_ just rebooted and registered _Faith_...

Heh. Nice to see that Alexander "Xander" LaVelle Harris-Chase was _still_ the very special and favorite butt-monkey of the whole freaking Universe. Not.

At least he still had his (their) dog. A life where you have a dog just can't be all that bad.

* * *

"Wow! Let's do that _again_, only _harder_," Tara said, her face flushed and her nipples hard, tiny points.

Then she opened her eyes and looked into the other circles and her eyes went wide open and staring and her mouth fell open to match.

Anya opened her eyes also, and looked, blinked, and said, "Hi there! Are there shrimp in your world?"

Cordelia bent forward somewhat, retching.

A rush of things, sensations, flashes of imagery, and a cascading burst of memories flooded her all at once and she swayed and said, in much fainter voice, "Oh. My. Yes, I guess there is... "

Fred let go of Gunn's arm so fast one might think it was red hot, jumped up and down and clapped, and said, "Ok. I take back _everything_ I said earlier – _you_ people give the _best_ parties! _Y__ee_-how! Can we do this again _next_ weekend? Maybe with tacos and dip?"

Then the petite Texican blinked, and her mouth fell open, and she asked, a bit plaintively, "Ok. Who the hell _are _you people?"

Angel just blinked, looked at the three circles in the big diagram, blinked again, shut his open jaw – and sighed, rolled his eyes, and reached out and up and took a firm grasp on Buffy's collar with one hand.

The (literally) long suffering vampire could just _hear_ the synapses firing and the tiny microchips crashing inside of her skull. He was pretty sure he could smell an acrid scent of burning transistors...

"Whoa." Gunn opened and shut his mouth carefully and silently, twice. He looked at his girlfriend, looked around the room – noted the new, pretty, five foot four-ish Hispanic gal standing to one side – blinked, looked back at the big diagram...

Raising a hand weakly, Charles Gunn said, "I'm gonna second what _she_ said," and pointed to Fred standing gape mouthed next to him. "Angel? Got any hard liquor here?"

Oz looked around, blinked twice, and said, "Cool." He gave a slight smile and a very slight wave. "Hey. Buffy."

"Hi Oz," she said back, a bit dazedly, waving back. "Howyadoin'?"

"Ampata?" Xander blinked, closed his eyes tightly, opened them and blinked again. "_Ampata_? What are you _doing_ here?"

"Hi Xander," Xander's one time Incan Mummy girlfriend said back. A number of people in the room mentally went, "Huh?"

Lorne just looked. And smiled inwardly. This was going to be _fascinating_...

Faith looked around, mentally went "WTF, Over?" and her mouth fell open, staying that way. This _really_ didn't look like the inside of her cell at Stockton...

Cordelia straightened up, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand and making a face. Yuck. At least not very much came out. But she'd _never_ get these boots clean – wait. Boots? Wait – _Ampata_?

Ghani nuzzled her hand, and she scratched the dog's ears absently.

Froze.

Wait – _Ghani_?

"Wait, why am I wearing the chain-mail bikini again? Xander..." Cordelia glared at her husband, and got a sidelong smirk back. She sighed, rolled her eyes and tossed her hair, and changed herself back to the – full coverage, thank gods – leather thing again. Wait, what?

She looked around, her eyes blinking and her mouth falling open as she counted heads. Oh, this was _so_ not going to be good here in about ten... nine... eight... seven...

Buffy finished processing, rebooted again for good measure, closed her mouth... and growled deeply in her chest and throat and lunged for the big circle diagram –

Cordelia reached up and back, turning slightly, smacked her idiot husband upside the head, and yelled, "The _hell_ did you _do_, Lame Brain?"

All hell broke loose.

In a manner of speaking.

* * *

"Ow!" Swear to _God_ that woman could hit. And she had to have arms like a freaking _octopu_s to reach around and smack him in the _back_ of the head from in front of him...

"The _hell_ did you _do_, Lame Brain?"

"Me!"

Buffy hit the end of Angel's arm, growling, so hard her feet flew out from under her and she yanked him stumbling forward. Having anticipated that, Angel grabbed her around the waist as they came back to the ground – careful to get _both_ arms in the circle of his – caught his balance and whirled her around in a circle to break her momentum, his other arm coming across to reinforce the first.

He lifted her from the floor so her feet didn't touch – making sure to rob her of any possible leverage...

"_Let_ me _go_ Angel! I swear to _God_ that I will _stake_ you so hard your _dust_ will have splinters!"

"Calm down, Buffy!"

"Don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down you- you- you... _vampire_!"

She turned into a twisting, fighting, wriggling demon in his arms. Which, Xander thought, might be interesting with the way her clothing was coming all disarranged – if it wasn't for the fact that his wife would _kill_ him for going there. And probably Angel, too.

"Calm down, Buffy!" Angel said into Buffy's ear, again. "I'm sure there's a rational explanation if you'll just stop and listen - "

"Oh, believe me, Captain Pulseless," Xander Harris-Chase's mouth to brain filter completely forgot to kick in, and he said. "There is absolutely no _rational_ explanation for _any_ of this. _Believe_ me."

Angel gritted his teeth, tightening his grip. "You. Are. Not. _Helping_. Harris." he ground out.

"Oh. Was I supposed to help?" he said, his eyes starting to dance merrily. He reached up and caught Cordelia's wrist before she could belt him again.

"C-c- " Xander's spasmodic brain to mouth filter kicked in, finally, before he could finish saying something idiotic – and suicidal – like 'calm down, Cordy.'

This time. Luckily.

Angel glared at him.

Xander started laughing so hard his knees buckled and he sat down abruptly. Hard. In a puddle of Cordelia's puke.

Somehow, that just made it funnier.

Ghani jumped on him and started licking him all over the face, wriggling, with a worried expression. He was starting to become afraid that he was going to asphyxiate. Xander wrapped his arms around her neck, buried his face in her fur, and fell over on his side – still laughing hysterically.

Cordelia put her hands on her hips and glared down at him. Buffy actually stopped wriggling long enough to glare at him.

Both of them said, with identical expressions and in identical tones of voice, at precisely the same time, "What the _hell_ are _you_ laughing at, Donut Boy?"

Somehow, that didn't help.

He _finally__ – _thank Zeus – got himself under enough control and enough breath back in him to gasp out, "You- she- us- we- Boy, I d-didn't s-see _that_ coming!"

Cordelia stared at him, her mouth open. After a minute, she started snickering and sat down next to him, blowing straggles of hair out of her eyes. Faith started snickering, also.

That really didn't help.

"Oh. My. God," he gasped. "The look on Angel's face is just- just... _priceless_." Faith lost it on that one.

Buffy started struggling again, a manic gleam coming over her eyes.

This time, she was focused on him. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad. But it sure was funny.

He was going to die at the hands of an enraged homicidal female slayer. _Again_.

"Shut _up_, Harris," Angel said through gritted teeth. "Or I _swear_ I will let her go."

Faith leaned on Oz's shoulder, hiccuping laughter. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say: that didn't go as planned, did it?" Buffy's head tracked around on her like a radar installation, and she growled again.

That did it. That set _Cordelia_ off, howling and collapsing against him.

"Let me _go_. I am going to rip his head off and pop it like a zit. You hear me Angel? Like a _zit_! And _then_ Faith's!"

"As tempting- as that- is," Angel said, starting to snicker, and then laugh himself, "NO, Buffy."

"Oh oh," Xander finally got back another semblance of control. "I'm so-sorry, Buffy. I just c-co-_couldn't_ go on a trip and not bring back _presents_, could I?"

* * *

.


	35. There's a Lesson to be Learned From This

**Chapter Thirty-two: There's a Lesson to be Learned From This (and I've Learned it Very Well)**

* * *

"_Soap and education are not as sudden as a massacre, but they are more deadly in the long run.__"_ ― Mark Twain

* * *

"Owb." Xander mumbled. "She bwoke my fribbing nobe."

"Keep your head back, dammit," Faith said from where she was kneeling on the couch next to him, and trying to examine his nose. She turned his head this way and that, despite his protests, and nodded after a moment, "Yup. Broke, all right."

"Oh god," Buffy said, her hands over her mouth and her eyes big. "I'm so sorry."

"You shwoob beeb," he said. "You bibt."

"Hell, I'm amazed she didn't break mine, too," Cordelia said. She was sitting at Xander's other side, trying her best not to laugh at her husband. And at the entire situation.

"Sorry," Angel said. "My hands slipped."

"That slip looked deliberate to me," Anya said, from next to Cordelia, holding a roll of surgical tape. Angel glared at her, and Anya added, with a shrug, "But I'm very likely mistaken."

"All right." Faith looked over at Cordelia. "Here – hold his head."

Cordelia sighed, and got up and went around to the back where she could put her hands on both sides of Xander's head.

"Habe! Whab are youb doin'?"

Faith grabbed his nose and made a pulling and twisting motion. There was a slight cracking sound.

"OW!"

"There, all set now," Faith said. She began packing his nose with gauze. "Oh, quit being such a baby. Jeeze."

Xander glared at her. "Dat it mizzy. Nob morb hugb for yoob."

At least there was a temporary truce between the two Slayers, thought Cordelia. Even if it _had_ been bought at the price of Xander's freaking nose.

Anya glanced over to the bar where Gunn, Fred, and Lorne were standing near an array of bottles and glasses. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked.

"That's ok," Gunn said, "I am not driving back tonight." He glanced over at the couch, and then went back to raiding Angel's stashed liquor supply. "Sorry, Angel. I'm gonna get drunk, and then sleep with my girl – probably just sleep, cause, hey – liquor may be quicker, but it don't do much for the little man."

He grinned down at Fred, and she grinned back up at him. "Oh, not so little," she said. Gunn's grin got wider and he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"No problem, Gunn," Angel said. He shook his head, "I'm not either – L.A. will have to get by without us for one more night."

Angel looked over at Buffy with some concern. She'd finally calmed down to where he could – tentatively – let her go without fearing she'd go homicidal on anyone. Unfortunately, he'd picked the exact wrong moment to loosen his grip: right about the time Harris had made yet another wise-ass remark, and Buffy'd gotten loose and popped him one.

That thing about bringing home presents may have been just a _little_ bit past the no return point for Buffy's last nerve...

She caught the look, and gave him a small, wry smile. "Oops?"

"Butterfingers," he said, shrugging.

Cordelia sighed. "You really don't look all that torn up about it, Angel."

"I'm not." Angel shrugged, ignoring Xander's glare. "At least she didn't go after Faith."

"Yeah, 'cause I'd have killed _her_," Buffy said.

"Ow!" Xander said again.

"Oh, for... " Cordelia decided enough was enough, and that it was time to take pity on Lame Brain. She looked over at Tara, and said, "Is there something you could do to fix him up?"

"Uh, n-no," Tara said, "Sorry. But I'd be afraid to try healing spells. They can b-be dangerous, especially around the Hellmouth."

"Hmm. You might, though," Anya said, cocking her head.

"Huh?" Cordelia stared at her.

"Well," she spread her hands. "I've been thinking about what you've said about your powers, and trying to figure out what kind of demon aspect you have. And most demons and beings with light powers can also heal. Usually."

Xander turned his head, slightly, and raised an eyebrow at Anya.

She shrugged. "Usually."

"Ok," Cordelia said. "But I don't really have any control over this stuff... "

"Oh, that's simple," Anya said, looking at her with a puzzled expression. "Visualize what you want, and then concentrate on the feeling you get when your powers go off. And push. With _intent_."

"Huh." Cordelia noticed that Tara looked as dubious as she felt. Xander looked at her hopefully, upside down. "Hey – don't blame me if your head gets blasted through the couch, ok? Or you get a third eye in the back of your head."

"Ib ok. I hab my ballb nowb."

"If you'd had them before, she wouldn't have broken your nose," Cordelia said, sourly. Xander glared up at her.

She laid her hand on Xander's nose, as gently as she could. Faith scrambled back as far as she could to the end of the couch.

Cordelia and Xander glared at her.

"Hey – you almost put _me_ through a wall. Pardon my paranoia."

Cordelia shook her head, closed her eyes, and concentrated on doing what Anya had suggested. She could almost feel the little demon girl watching her intently. After a moment, she felt a warmth in her hand and a gentle rush of power, similar to what she'd felt when she'd done the laying on hands thing with Buffy.

"Hey! That was cool," Xander said. He lifted his head, and started pulling loops of bloody gauze out of his nose. "Ow."

"It worked?" Cordelia looked around at everyone. Anya nodded, as did Faith, Buffy, and Ampata. "Wow."

"Looked freaking cool, too, C," Faith said.

"I'm feeling much better now," Xander said. "And, hey, Gunn – your fly is unzipped." Behind him, Gunn's head jerked around and he looked down, then back up, glaring.

Cordelia's mouth fell open, and then she glared and swatted him. "Ooohhh you!"

"Thank you, honey," Xander said. Ampata giggled, and Xander looked at her. "And may I just say how very freaky that is, you being here."

She nodded. "It still freaks me out too, sometimes."

He nodded, and Ghani came up and stuck her nose in his lap for an ear rub. Cordelia smiled. Freaky thing number two. And then three, with Oz. She went back around the couch to sit down by her idiot-boy husband again. And – freaky thing number four, or whatever: how easy it was now to think of Xander that way.

"That felt... different from when I did that with Buffy and passed out after," Cordelia said, kind of wonderingly.

Tara nodded. "Looked different, also," she said, looking thoughtful. "I think... you basically just poured a lot of life force and energy into Buffy after Warren shot her, and stabilized her until the paramedics got there, that's why you passed out. Here... you actually healed him."

Cordelia nodded thoughtfully, her eyes slightly wide. "Ok, more I see and do, the freakier these demon powers are," she said. "But kinda neat, sometimes."

"Wait," Faith said, holding up a hand. She blew right past the glare Buffy aimed at her, looked at her, and said, "You got _shot_? And almost killed?"

"What? Jealous someone else got to do it?" Buffy snapped.

"No!" Faith jerked back, looking so... appalled at that that Cordelia could see Buffy's eyes soften despite herself.

Sigh. "Yeah," Buffy said, in a bit less aggressive of a tone. "Warren Mears – doubt you know him – shot me and Xander and Cordelia killed him before he could finish us off. And kept me alive, somehow, until the paramedics got there."

"You _killed _him?"

Must be the night for flabbergasting Faith. Apparently _that_ detail had slid past her when they were discussing the killing thing in Xander's mindscape... Cordelia quirked an odd feeling smile at her and nodded, "Yeah. Shot him dead."

"Damn," Faith said, sitting back and looking stunned. "I mean, yeah, kinda vaguely remember something being said back there, but... wow. And I thought you were cold inside of Xander's head at times."

"Remember what Hyena Xander told Riley?" Cordelia asked.

"Yeah," Faith's lips curled up, and she nodded. "No one hurts my girls, boy."

Nod. "No one hurts my friends, Faith," Cordelia said, her eyes cold. Buffy watched the exchange intently, a small frown forming between her eyes.

"Not real happy about that, either, Faith," Buffy said, turning the intent look on her. "But it's _why_ she did it that makes the difference."

"I get that," Faith nodded back, looking thoughtful. Faith raised her eyebrows, and looked at Buffy carefully. "So... " she began, "Are we not ever gonna be cool again, B?"

"Hell, no, _F_," Buffy said, "Just with a temporary cease fire."

Angel looked over at Buffy with some concern still. She caught the look, and gave him a small, wry smile.

"You can quit looking at me like that, Angel. I am so not going to come unglued. Any more," she said, waving a vague hand at the 'any more'. "Too tired."

"At least you only hit Xander," Angel said, shrugging.

"Hey!"

Angel rubbed his jaw and looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "Pardon my lack of sympathy, Harris."

Xander snickered, and then nodded. "Some brother in law _you_ are, Cro-magnon Man."

Buffy raised an eyebrow and glared at Xander. And Cordelia. "But you – _you_ have some 'splaining to do, mister. And Missy. At least if you want this truce to hold."

Xander visibly did his very level best – which wasn't good at the best of times, Cordelia reflected – to keep his grin swallowed and his brain-mouth filter in place. Instead, he nodded seriously at Buffy.

But his eyes were twinkling, and she figured Buffy noticed that, because hers glinted back at him. She huffed and sat down on the other couch, across the low coffee table from them.

"Really haven't a clue, Buff. Still working that out."

Buffy's eyes narrowed a bit, and she suddenly held up a hand. "Hold it. Let's not be any stupider about this than we have to, for once, 'k?" She cocked her head at Xander, looking at him intently, and said, "Ampata wasn't evil."

He looked back and said just as seriously, "And you had me to bring you back."

Buffy nodded, a slow smile spreading across her lips, and repeated the process with Cordelia and then nodding again. "Ok. I'm good." She gave a slight bow from the shoulders and leaned back, smiling.

Tara handed him a steaming mug of coffee, with another for Cordelia, who nodded at her gratefully. He sat back, one arm around Cordelia, pulling her into him, and sipped his coffee. They were both sticking to coffee tonight, not booze. Too tired.

Ok. _So_ maybe the coffee was in a tall mug with a jigger and a half of Jamesons, and a generous splash of Bailey's for creamer, and a dash of Irish Myste. Good stuff.

It had been a really rough several days tonight. Weeks. (She didn't care if Wizard Xander said they'd only been in Xander's head fifty to sixty minutes. It was days.) And a long hard week before that. Her husband's arm was still hurt. He needed the fortification. So did she.

And if it hit them and wiped them out, at least they'd be alert drunks.

Ghani jumped up and curled up on the sofa to snooze with her head in Cordelia's lap, and Cordy began gently and absently playing with the tall dog's ears.

Ampata – and boy _was_ that ever freaky – was sitting in an arm chair kitty corner to the two of them, and next to Tara's chair. Who had gotten dressed, along with Anya, before they'd all retired upstairs.

Cordy too. She'd changed out of the Barbarian Fantasy Leather Warrior Girl outfit (to Xander's disappointment) and back into her regular clothing.

Gunn finished fixing his second drink, and a Wild Turkey and Coke for Fred, and came back to sit down on the other couch with her. Lorne was in the other arm chair near them, between them and Angel's currently unused recliner.

Oz sprawled in the stuffed chair next to Faith's end of the couch, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips and watching everyone.

"Good thing I didn't have anything in my backpack I couldn't afford to lose," Oz remarked. "And that my van is parked where it'll be ok."

Faith glanced over to him. "You sure that you're not still attached to your backpack?"

"Huh." Oz shrugged. "Nope."

Faith stayed sitting curled up in the corner of the sofa near Oz and back a bit, and reasonably far from Buffy. Reasonably quietly, so far, too, after that exchange. Good choice, Cordelia thought. No need to push the envelope – they'd already fought _one_ eldritch horror tonight. No need to go for two. She stifled a grin.

"Ok, so," Tara said. "All integrated now? 'Cause, if not, probably too bad – might not want to try _that_ again." She grinned.

"What. You can't tell?" Xander said, grinning back.

Tara jerked, startled. Then her grin got a little abashed. "Oh! That's right. I'm so used to _not_ reading people's auras unless they ask, I forgot."

Her eyes went unfocused briefly, then widened slightly. "Huh. I'll say. And, wow."

"I could have told you it worked," Cordelia said, sipping her own Irish Coffee. "But it's nice to get confirmation."

"Wow?" Buffy looked at her, then at Xander and back to her again. "What wow?"

"Oh... " Tara waved a hand in Xander's direction. "Integrated. And, wow – really _neat_ looking aura." She giggled.

"Ok, so, what happened to you guys?" Fred asked, leaning forward. "Especially you," she said, looking at Xander.

Cordelia frowned. "Really, really long strange story, Fred. I'm so not sure we could tell it all if we had all night and tomorrow."

Xander studied the Texas girl intently, then shrugged. "I could."

"So can not," Cordelia said. "And I don't want to stay awake that long." They'd managed to hit the high points of the mystical mind trip from the time Tara and Anya's spell imploded, but by far, not every bit of it. That could take days to lay out in detail...

"Can too," he insisted. Angel looked at him sharply, and then his eyebrows raised. "Fact, I can explain the whole thing to Fred here in two words and she'll get it perfectly."

"Oh, _no_ you can't!"

Gunn leaned forward also, and Fred's interest and curiosity sharpened. "Ok, now I gotta hear this," Gunn said. Ampata and Tara leaned in also, although Cordelia could see a gleam in Tara's eye and a suspicious hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. Faith's interest sharpened also, and she frowned slightly.

He looked at Cordelia. "Bet you," Xander said.

"Bet you can't," she shot back. Then she stopped, looking at him suspiciously, and said, "And what do you expect if you win, huh?"

Xander smirked. He shrugged, casually. "Surprise me." A slight half smile curled Xander's lips and he leaned forward. "Ready?" Fred nodded eagerly. He opened his mouth, and said, "Joseph Campbell."

And then leaned back, smiling expectantly.

"Oh jeeze... " Cordelia threw up her hands. "What kind of a lamoid clue is that?"

Fred's eyes narrowed in thought, her lips moving silently. Then her eyes widened and she said, "Oh. Oh!" and nodded vigorously.

Angel's lips quirked and then he started laughing softly. He brought his drink over and sat down next to Buffy.

Cordelia looked at Fred, and then at her husband, then made an exasperated noise, and said, "Oh for – I give up. Jerk."

"Wait. What?" Buffy looked at them like they were all nuts. She looked at Fred. "What?"

Gunn nodded, frowning. He pointed to Buffy and said, "What she said."

Fred started snickering, shaking her head, and then she turned excitedly towards Gunn and Buffy. "Of course – Joseph Campbell!"

Blank looks. And a smug look on Xander.

"The Monomyth," she said.

Angel nodded. "From Finnegan's Wake."

Fred looked at him and nodded vigorously, then back at the others. "And Campbell's 'Hero of a Thousand Faces'."

"And Cousineau, in his book, 'The Hero's Journey'," Tara put in.

"Ok, now you're gonna _have_ to get 'splainy," Buffy said, looking _completely_ lost.

"Wait!" Cordelia put up a hand for halt. "First, just how the _hell_ did you know she'd get that, Doofus?"

"She's a physicist," Xander said, winking at Fred. "And a polymath. And a Sci-fi buff. She told us so in Vegas."

Cordelia swatted him. "Don't rub it in, jerk. Mind like my Aunt Sophia's attic. Ok, you win." He grinned at her and she huffed at him. "And now she'll start using thirty syllable words and I'll end up having to go look it up myself."

"Seventeen stages, but," Fred gestured to Tara, "Cousineau boils it down to eight." Fred started in to explain further, and she could almost hear eyes starting to glaze. Except for maybe Xander's.

He evidently could too, because he cut across Fred and shrugged. "It's called the Hero's Journey, like she said, Gunn. Stages, basically starting with the Call to Adventure, and then a series of trials and visions and supernatural-slash-mystical encounters before you come out the other side, changed."

Angel nodded, sipping his drink. Human drink tonight – whiskey, not blood. "Central to most myths and legends. And to a lot of classical literature."

"Ah," Gunn said with a shrug. "Ok."

Lorne said, "So, you went through the entire thing in that space of hours? In your head?"

"In and out of it, obviously," Cordelia said, waving around at the various people with them. "It got... strange at points."

Faith laughed, and Xander said, "That it did. Supernatural guide, descent into the underworld, and even rescue from outside, yata yata."

"And a big honking monster," Cordelia said, "Don't forget that part."

"So, how _did_ you get rid of the eldritch horror thing," Ampata asked.

"Uh... " Xander's mouth curled in a half grin.

"Played chicken and smacked it into a bridge abutment," Faith said, deadpan. But her eyes were dancing.

"What she said," Xander said, touching his nose and pointing.

"I _am_ getting the entire story," Buffy warned. "Maybe not tonight, maybe not right now, but I am."

"Deal," Cordelia said, nodding.

Angel raised his eyebrows at them, and asked, "Since you're integrated now, did you guys learn what you needed to from the journey, then? So far, I mean.""

Xander and Cordelia exchanged glances, and then nodded to him. "Yeah, I think I learned way more than I planned on."

"Me too," Cordelia said. "I probably know my idiot husband here better than he knows himself. Among other things."

Nodding from Anya, "You look... you're different, now," she said, looking intently at him.

Xander gave her the intent look back, with added intense, and she flushed slightly. "Naw," he said. "I'm just... more, me again, finally. And more... centered, maybe." He shrugged, looking at Cordelia and smiling

"No. You are different," Angel said, doing the intense look thing at him, also.

"Naw." Xander said, again and smiling slightly. "Visiting hours are over, remember?"

Angel frowned slightly, then smiled, nodding. Buffy watched the two of them, puzzled. "Yeah," Angel said, still with that slight smile, "But I'm family." Xander smiled back, and nodded, his eyes still twinkling.

"That was Xander," Cordelia said, agreeing. "And so was... the boy who put Tor and Kyle in the hospital for hurting Willow, and the one who gave Will his crayon when I broke hers, and... the one who was my Knight of Ghosts and Shadows in first and second grade." She shook her head, "And who went away, slowly, over the years until..." she shrugged.

"Roger Zelazny?" Xander said, giving Cordelia a peculiar smile. "Geek."

Cordelia flushed so hard that Gunn, Fred and Angel laughed. "_So_ very not!" She snorted, and added "Daddy used to read me those Mercedes Lackey books when I was little. The Bard ones? And _so_ unlike you to _miss_ a sci-fi reference, Doof."

"So sue me," Xander said, smiling. "Been a long week of bad years."

"That it has, Buffy said, quietly. "And a long year of bad weeks." She lifted her glass. "To them passing, finally," and added, "Skoal."

Faith looked at Angel, nodding. "Cordy says we broke him. Me and her and Will. And First Slayer Bitch finished the job."

Xander shook his head, smiling oddly. "Naw. Just the years and the mileage. Wears away bits of you, every time."

A number of people snorted at that, nodding. A reasonably companionable silence fell for a time.

"Ok, so, hold up now," Gunn said, breaking it, and aimed a finger. "How did mummy girl – and no offense," he added and Ampata grinned and shook her head, "Get into this? And back here alive again?"

"Uh... " Xander looked at Cordelia, and her back, and they shrugged at each other.

"Blame Doofus here," Cordelia suggested. "It's _not_ so much that the idiot never picks any girls _up_, it's that he never _ever_ puts any of them _down_," she said, complaining.

Faith laughed at that, and got a glare from Buffy.

"I can answer that," Buffy said, slowly. Everyone looked at her, even Ampata and Angel, who'd been around. "Xan here was somehow popping in and out in places he wasn't. And _shouldn't_ have been – for like, about three years or so. Or more."

"Yeah," Cordelia said. "Kept popping up in weird places and either saving my life and kissing hell out of me, or just grabbing and kissing hell out of me," she huffed, "and wandering off again. Him and that Alex character."

Buffy nodded. "And one of them was at the museum, and he knocked himself out and grabbed Ampata – "

"And kissed hell out of me," Ampata finished for her. "And... brought me back to life, somehow." She shrugged, looking puzzled, but happy.

"Magic," Xander said, deadpan. Everyone looked at him, and he shrugged and looked at Tara. "Will, visualization, and a _lot_ of _intent_ and motivation. And everything I could grab from the Orbs and the Never Never and the Dreamways. And _pushed_."

"Well, thank you," Ampata said, simply. Xander nodded, his eyes twinkling.

Tara smiled. "It works like that, sometimes."

"Usually, not in the _good _way around here," Buffy said with a sour look. "Except for then," she added, brightening.

"Speaking of," Cordelia looked at Tara, who raised her eyebrows. "Since Xander's alternate twin is a freaking _Wizard_, could you see anything in his aura that'd explain that? Since I don't think Ethan _Rayne_ could have just..." she gestured, "_Made_ him Harry Dresden with that idiot costume spell."

"Yes and no," Tara said, frowning. "Yes: a lot of latent power and potential there. And, no: it's been so deeply repressed and neglected for so long that it's doubtful you _could_ be Awakened at this point, Xander." She looked thoughtful, "And no, I don't think that Janus or Chaos would _let_ Rayne just... create Wizardry in someone with a ritual like that." She frowned, "Like what we talked about on the half-demon thing?"

Xander shrugged easily, smiling. "Easy come, easy go. Me and magic? Not mix-y things." He smiled with his eyes at Ampata. "But it served the purpose."

Tara shrugged again, "Being in that place, and with all that energy floating around, you probably were able to tap into a lot of that. Temporarily."

Anya nodded. "So. But, I _have_ to know. How _did_ you take down the Eldritch Thing? Really."

"Remember the Enjoining Spell?" Cordelia asked, looking at Buffy. Buffy's eyes got wide and she nodded slowly.

"Left fragments," Xander said. "Along with all the other leftover crap. So... I drew on it, and drew on Faith's connection to the Primitive, and mine, with a hell of a lot of _intent_," he said, and Tara laughed, "And smacked that thing right straight into the Eldest Slayer." He grinned, "And Wizard Me closed a pentagram around 'em and let 'em fight it out."

"First Slayer Bitch won," Faith said, dryly.

"Yeah, with a little help from Darkwing here."

Faith flushed, glaring. "Never gonna let that go, huh?"

"Nope. You got _Dangerous!_" he said, in unison with Cordelia and they both started laughing. "Never gonna get old."

"Jerks."

"Suck it up and deal, F," Buffy suggested. She looked at Xander, and said, "Boy. We really do need to work on our follow through, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking leaving all that stuff and never going back to look at it? Not of the good."

"Heh."

"By the way: _Jerk_," Cordelia said, elbowing him. "Not for saving you," she said to Ampata who grinned back, "But for kissing other girls."

"Yeah, shoulda learned my lesson," Xander said, smiling slightly. "And yet still I am not sorry."

"Don't be," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. She smiled at Ampata, "I'm glad you're alive. That was a horrid way to die, for everyone involved. Screwed up my husband for _years_."

"Thank you."

Angel nodded, smiling slightly. "Made a real mess with some things. And not so messy with others." He paused, "Cordy kept doing it also."

Buffy opened her mouth, frowning, and Xander beat her to it by leaning forward and looking at Anya.

"After the wish," he said, "Did you bring over a vampire Willow by conning Will into casting a spell to get your power center back?"

"No," Anya said, frowning. "It was Michael – Michael Czajak, and it was a naked alternate Angel all covered in burns, whip and knife scars."

"Ah. _That_ must've been an embarrassment of riches for Buffy," Xander said, grinning.

Buffy opened her mouth, closed it, and a red flush crept up from her neckline over her face. "Uh... "

"So was Amy a rat?" Cordelia asked.

"Oh, yes," Anya said. "Until just recently."

"Too weird," Gunn said, shaking his head. Buffy nodded and pointed at him while tapping herself on the nose. Gunn grinned at her and at Fred. "Still not sure how that's possible, but what the hell. I figure it'll all come out in the wash." He added, "And, ok, I don't understand how _they_ got here, either," Gunn said, gesturing to Faith, Oz, and Ghani.

"Magic?" Angel suggested.

"Two words," Xander said. "Robert Heinlein."

Fred's eyes widened and she laughed, nodding.

"Stop that!" Cordelia said, swatting him again.

"Speaking of," Oz said, interjecting something for almost the first time. So quiet Cordelia had almost forgotten he was there... "Where _is_ Will?"

Tara, Buffy, Xander, Cordelia, and Xander exchanged uncomfortable glances. Tara shrugged, looking ill at ease, and said, "S-she decided to be elsewhere tonight. W-we're n-not doing so well right now."

Oz nodded, looking pensive. He looked steadily at Tara, and said, "I'm sorry about before. I've learned a lot about control since then." he cocked his head slightly, "And managed to put me and Will in perspective, some." He gave a very slight half smile, and added, "In the rear-view."

Tara nodded, slowly, and then smiled back. "T-that's... well, not _good_, but it is good."

"I get that," Oz said.

"Ok, well... " Buffy said, "It's getting late, and I'm exhausted. Think it's quits for me." She looked at Cordelia and Xander and gave Faith a pointed and unfriendly look.

"I'm _still_ not happy with this," Buffy added, "But since she's going back to prison tomorrow, I won't go all Homicidal Buffy again."

Faith frowned, but she nodded.

"Let's deal with that as it comes up," Cordelia said, carefully. "It's late, as you said." No need to bring up the fact that she'd decided that there was no way in hell Faith was going back to the cage. Not on her watch.

There's such a thing as paying your debts, and she _owed_ Faith... _Liking_ and _hating_ had nothing to do with _anything_.

"Can't do anything tonight," Angel said. "And... really might be a good idea to call the prison and find out if Faith is even missing, first."

Buffy blinked, and her eyes widened. "You mean we might have _two_ of _her_?" her voice rose in pitch to the last words...

"Major embarrassment of riches," Xander said, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh no... " Buffy shook her head, burying her face in her hands.

"It _is_ a thought," Angel said, looking apologetic.

"Well," Xander said, and Buffy looked at him suspiciously, "I did manage to collect every Cordy I could while I was at it. Maybe I should look into gathering up Faiths. Gotta catch 'em all!"

Faith laughed. Cordelia shook her head and whopped him one. Like she so hadn't seen that one coming... he ducked away and laughed.

"Hey," Xander added, deadpan. "Reverend Buckmeister always _said_ I could stand to have more Faith."

"I think," Cordelia said, eying him from under her perfect eyebrows, "That you've had _enough_ Faith for one lifetime."

"As much as I'm reluctant to bring it up in _this_ crowd," Lorne said, with a glance at Tara. "There is a way to maybe ease your mind a bit, Honeybunch. Or confirm it, but I don't think that'll be the case."

Buffy lifted her head and looked at him. Faith raised her eyebrows, as did Oz, his.

"Considering Tara nearly blew my head open by accident," Lorne said... Tara blushed, and he went on, "I'm reluctant, but she could do a little ditty for me and I could read her."

"You mean, and you'd know... " Buffy made a vague gesture.

"What path she's on and all that, yes," Lorne said, shrugging. "And if she's a danger to you and yours and what all."

"She sings for you," Buffy said. "I don't _like_ this, but if you say she's not evil, and not a... _murderer_ waiting to happen, I let it go. For now."

Faith took her increasingly puzzled frown and turned it to Angel. Angel shrugged and explained Lorne's abilities to her.

"Hell, I'm game," Faith said, spreading her hands. Oz was studying Lorne with an intent expression.

"Could be interesting," Oz said.

"What the hell," Buffy said. "I'll sleep better." She yawned, covering it with her hand and looking surprised. "Not that _that's_ gonna be an issue tonight."

"You think _you're_ exhausted," Xander said. He glanced at Faith, and shrugged. "Give it a try?"

"Sure."

* * *

"Ok, so.. no music, so just what, that ack apelli thing?" Faith said, wiping her hands on her legs a bit nervously.

"A capella," Lorne said. "And that'll be fine, Sugarbunch."

Faith got up and went over to stand in front of the fireplace, near the middle of the room. "Jeeze. Haven't done this since choir," she said.

Cordelia, Buffy, and Angel stared at her. She glared back, and said, "Catholic school, all right? 'Til like, the sixth grade. Sheesh."

Oz smiled. "Well, you know what Billy Joel said."

She threw him a startled look, and then grinned. "Yup. Except they don't _always_ start out much too late," she said, winking at him.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, jittering in place nervously for a moment. After a bit, she began tapping out rhythm with her fingertips against her thighs and swaying to it gently... and then moving her hips. Faith opened her eyes again, and looked around the room until, finally they fastened onto Xander and Cordelia, sitting together, and nodded.

"Ok... "

Xander gave her a 'you can do this' look and nod, and she nodded back.

Deep breath...

.

"_I wanna love you but I better not touch –_"

.

She started hesitantly, and then her voice strengthened in to a rough, smoky whiskey contralto...

.

"_I hear you calling and it's needles and pins__ – __and pins!_

_Don't wanna touch you but you're under my skin_

.

Her voice swelled, growing hoarse and smoky and almost a growl.

A very sexy growl.

.

_I wanna love you but I better not touch – Don't touch!_

_I wanna hold you but my sens-es tell me to stop –_"

.

Gunn looked at Fred and said, "Day-um." She nodded back, eyes wide. Oz nodded an agreement.

"You should have been here for the musical episode, Gunn," Xander said, nodding cheerfully. "Heh. _Faith_ should have been here for the musical episode."

Cordelia blinked. Next to her, she saw Xander do the same, then smile broadly.

.

"_I wanna kiss you but I want it too much__ – __Too much!_

_I wanna hurt you just to hear you scream out my name_

_I wanna taste you but our kisses are venomous – poison_

_It's poison running through our veins..._

_We're poison -_

_And we can't ever break these chains –_

_Poison burning through our brains – Poison_

_And we can't ever break these chains_

_Poison running through our veins_

_Poison burning through our brains... _"

.

"Ouch," Lorne said, holding up a hand. She broke off immediately, looking at him hesitantly. Wow. Faith the Vampire Slayer hesitant, Cordelia thought. There's something new...

"What," Faith said, looking uncertainly at him, "Didn't I do it right?"

"No, no. You were fine, Nightingale. More than fine. And, wow." Lorne shook his head, "Seriously nice set of pipes there. A bit rough, but nice."

"Thanks," Faith said, dimpling at him. "Kinda outta practice. And I smoke too much, lately."

"Alice Cooper?" Oz asked, sounding curious.

Faith nodded. "Just the choruses, and mixed up a bit, well, a _lot_, but... "

"Works," Oz said, nodding, and she dimpled again. He glanced at Lorne, raising an eyebrow. "And, ouch?"

"Owie." Lorne gestured at Tara, "I thought our little Wicca wonder there had a seriously intense aura, but, Momma Mia. This girl... " Lorne looked at Faith, "_Intense_ doesn't even begin to describe it."

"Uh, is that good or bad?"

Lorne shrugged. He looked to Buffy, asking, "Should I lay it out here, or take the cupcake off to one side and let her relay after?"

"Rather hear it out here," Buffy said, her eyes hard.

Faith shrugged. "That's what it's _for_, right? Lay it on us."

"Ok... " Lorne paused, frowning in thought. He looked at Buffy. "Well, for starters, I don't think you need to worry about any replay action here. Lot of darkness there, but a lot of light, too. And whatever path little songbird here was on, she's jumped tracks and let the Evil Express pull out of the station with her on the platform waving goodbye."

Buffy frowned, but didn't say anything. Faith brightened, looking relieved.

Angel smiled, nodded. "I knew you were on a better track." Faith dimpled at him, also.

"You," Lorne said, turning back to Faith, "Honey-suckle, have a really _complicated_ path. And I think a lot of that has to do with our Child of Chaos over there, and his mate," he looked over, waving toward Xander and Cordelia. "Man, Lochinvar. I thought you had a gift for shredding the warp and woof of the webs before, but for some reason, you're doing it now with _intent_."

Xander stared at him, then exchanged looks with Cordelia, and shrugged. "He says that like it's a _bad_ thing," Xander said. Cordelia nodded, flashing a smile at him.

"No, no, not at all," Lorne said, with a quick smile back at them.

"Ok, so, what's that _mean_?" Faith said.

"Means I either want to latch onto him and hang on for the ride, or run screaming as far away as I can and I'm not sure which. Your boy there seems to just completely unravel the fates of everyone he touches these days... just by getting near them. Yours was... _not_ going back to where you _were_, but still heading into some seriously dark and dead end places. And then? Wham. Off the tracks and onto a place with a myriad of switch offs."

"_Xander_?" Faith and Buffy said both at the same time, and then glared at each other.

"And his Pylean Princess, yes," Lorne said. "He's _already_ derailed the paths of half the people in this room just in the space of a week or so, and suddenly, Cordy-kins seems to be picking up the knack as well."

"Oh-kay... " Faith shook her head. "You threw me on the hairpin. Wanna do it in English this time?"

"Meaning that it's probably a good thing you got sucked into the shared adventure there. And meaning that somehow, probably as a result of the shared experience you just went through, you, and young Bogie and Bacall and young Mr. Ultraviolet there," he gestured at an increasingly bemused Oz, "All have a joining now. Your paths are all interconnected and tangled up. And that's a _good_ thing, believe me."

"Huh." The corner of Faith mouth curled up, and she gave Xander a steady look. "Maybe I _was_ wrong. Looks like there maybe was a connection, after all."

"It's _a__ll_ about the connections, Faithy," Xander said, smiling.

"And you," Lorne turned to an equally bemused and slightly unsettled looking Cordelia. "You, sweetie, you seem to have picked up a similar interconnection to Morgana and Glinda there," he said, indicating Anya and Tara. "All intertwined now."

"Huh." Cordelia frowned.

"Uh... " Tara blinked. "It's the spell."

Everyone looked at her, and she blushed. "W-when we were drawing Cordelia back, it suddenly hit me. Mother, Maid, and C-crone. We formed the classic Goddess Triad without even intending to."

Anya was nodding, slowly. "Of course. Yes! That makes perfect sense." She got the group intent look also, and shrugged. "Well, it _does_." She huffed and sat back, folding her arms.

"Just have to ask here: which is which?" Cordelia said, "'Cause, I like you and all Tara, but I kinda have _issues_ with being the crone here."

Xander grinned, and she elbowed him. Tara giggled, then shook her head, "No. You're the Mother, silly."

"Oh." Then, "Oh! And, eww. You mean because of that... " Cordelia made a gesture, and Tara nodded.

"'Fraid so."

"Yuck."

"And naturally, of course, _I'm_ the crone," Anya said. "Eleven hundred years old. Duh."

"But you're so well preserved, dear," Xander said, and she grinned at him, nodding. "You don't look a _day_ over nine hundred and ninety-nine."

Everyone laughed, and Anya huffed, glaring at him. "Fine. Laugh it up."

"Ok, so you guys are... " Buffy spread her hands, looking lost for words. She made a gesture that encompassed Faith, Oz, Xander and Cordelia.

"'Fraid so," Cordelia said, nodding.

"_Fine_." Buffy said. "I said it, and I'll stick with it. But - " she aimed a finger at Faith. "I don't like you. I don't trust you. I have _reasons_, dammit." Faith nodded, looking serious. "And I _don't_ want you in my home. Don't _really_ want you in my _town_, but I'll let that go for now while we sort things out."

She glared, adding, "Just _don't_ give me a reason to regret it."

"I won't, B-, uh, Buffy," Faith said, nodding. "And look, you can beat me to death for it if you want, but I really am sorry. Really."

"It. Doesn't. Help." Buffy gritted out. She sighed. "Much."

Lorne watched, waiting until everything was played out. Then, "If I didn't think it'd blow my head up, I'd get you and Cordy and Xander and Oz to do a group sing, but... no."

Oz said, carefully, "Maybe if I did a couple of bars? Musician – my voice can't be _that_ painful." he smiled.

"Dunno, Oz, man," Xander said, grinning, "No offense, but I heard you sing with the Dingos."

There were a few chuckles and Oz grinned. "None taken."

"Can't but hurt," Lorne said. "And I mean, literally. But – hit it."

Oz glanced over at Xander. "We need to talk," he said, and Xander nodded. He looked to Faith, and said, "Ever think about singing lead?" She blinked. He smiled, and said, "We'll talk also."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and sang, softly...

.

"_Oh__ – __They won't play my music so I'm never comin' back_

_I made too many boasts along the way_

_And its a cold, long lonely day... _

_Oh let me share your fire and I'll sing a song for you... _

_Funny cause I only have this song_

_and if you want, I'll move on..._

.

_Hey there Mr. Gershwin_

_Gone at thirty eight_

_Gave so much and yet so much to give_

_And I thank you for Rhapsody in Blue..._

_And I must confess sometimes I think of you. _"

.

He trailed off, opening his eyes. He raised his eyebrows to Lorne, who nodded.

"Wow," Lorne said, "Powerful, and I don't just mean the Good Rats throaty blues there, Frankie." He frowned, "Hrmm," he said after a moment, "I'm going to have to think on this one. After I fortify my thought processes with a drink. A stiff drink."

He smiled and added, "But you also have a very powerful and very peaceful aura. Groovy."

* * *

She found Buffy in the downstairs master bath, with the door open, checking her makeup and hair in the vanity mirror.

"Hi," Buffy said, glancing around with a smile. "Be out in a seccy."

Cordelia waved that off. She leaned against the door frame.

"Sorry about all that," Cordelia said, "Even if we didn't, like, _plan_ any of it, y'know. Especially not Faith and Oz coming back through with us."

"I know." She leaned against the vanity counter, looking back. "It's just... " she gave an aimless sort of wave, "It's _Faith_, you know?"

"I know," Cordelia said, nodding. "Believe me. I have Faith issues on top of my Faith issues."

"Hah. I'll bet," Buffy said, flashing her a tiny, wry smile. "It's just... there was a major connection building there for a bit. And I was thinking, here's someone who can get me. Who _gets_ me, finally," she sighed, "And then, a bit after the coma where I hoped we could put all that behind and," she shrugged, "Move on."

"And then she blew that happy theory the hell out of the water with cold reality?"

"And sank it at the docks, yeah," Buffy said, nodding. "And she tried to hurt my _mom_, too. Which no one does."

_'Well, except for Angelus, and she didn't go after _him_ with a knife,'_ Still Quiet observed. _'Then again, she wasn't sleeping with Faith. That we know of... '_

Cordelia put a muzzle on Still Quiet and simply nodded.

"And the body switch, and the life stealing, and using my body to sleep with Riley... " Buffy sighed, again.

"Yeah." Cordelia said, nodding.

"Huh. You seem to be oddly at ease," Buffy said, "For, you know, all the Faith issues."

"We... came to terms in there, sort of, I guess," Cordelia said. She shrugged, and held up a hand with her thumb and forefinger about a quarter of an inch apart, "After I came about yea close to doing a Warren-bot number on her at one point. _More_ than one point." Looking thoughtful, she added, "And, in a real way, she's _mine_, now. Bought and paid for with blood and pain and life and death. I own her."

"You're gonna have to explain that one to me," Buffy said, looking at her oddly.

"No," Cordelia said, smiling oddly at her. "I _really_ don't." She said, "I'm not _ever_ going to talk about that to _anyone_, except Xander. And, _maybe_, Giles some day."

"Huh." Buffy nodded, and turned back to the mirror slightly to check her outfit from the side.

Cordelia gave her a sharp look, and Buffy waved it off. "There's things I don't talk about, Cordy," she said, "Too personal. And too... raw. I get it."

Cordelia nodded. "I will understand if you don't want me and Xander at your house, either, because of," she waved back toward the great room, "This."

Buffy's eyes widened, and she slapped Cordelia on the arm, hard. "Don't be a freaking idiot, Cordy."

"Ow." Cordelia rubbed her upper arm.

"And don't be such a baby, either," Buffy said, smiling a bit maliciously. "You _so_ deserved that. Told you. I don't have enough old friends that I want to throw any of them away, not even if they are idiots sometimes." She grinned, "And not my new sister in law, either. Not over _Faith_."

"Good," Cordelia said, grinning back. "So, Xander's the brother you never had? Like Gunn is for me?"

"Well, don't know about you and Gunn – haven't seen you together all that much," Buffy said. "But, yeah. I never did really have the boyfriend girlfriend attraction to him, not like you. Or Ampata. Or maybe Will."

"I think Will had a sister crush. And then wanted him because I had him," Cordelia suggested.

"Maybe?" Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Complicated stuff, that. Gets weird when you know someone for, oh, ever."

"Yeah. Eighteen years of broken crayons, paste eating, stolen barbies, stolen kisses, dance lessons, horseback riding and copped feels, shared dogs, skinned knees, broken noses," she said, and Buffy laughed, then looked mortified. Cordelia waved it off, "Oh please. I'm years ahead of you on that. And at least _we_ didn't try to run him over, like Aura did."

Buffy laughed again, her eyes widening, then nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Like that."

"Need a ride?"

"Naw. And maybe some vamp will jump me," Buffy said. "I could use the stress relief." Cordelia laughed, and Buffy's eyes narrowed and her smile turned slightly wicked, "And I'm so not sure I want you guys behind the wheel. Not after those, what, three huge Irish Coffees each you guys swilled down?"

"But- but- but – we're alert drunks!" Cordelia mock protested, her eyes going wide and crazed.

"Yeah. Suuuurrrreee you are." Buffy shook her head. "Get Angel to drive you."

* * *

.


	36. And I Think It's Gonna Be All Right

**Epilogue the First: And I Think It's Gonna Be All Right (Yes the Worst is Over Now)**

* * *

"_There is nothing more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends."_ ― Homer _(The Odyssey)_

* * *

True to her word, Buffy had insisted on Angel driving them back to Xander's apartment.

No real problem, that. Both Xander and Cordelia were way too exhausted to see straight by the time the post-Slay, Scooby Meeting -slash- Dreamwalk postmortem had wound down, finally. And, truth be told, just a _wee_ bit tipsy from Irish Coffee, maybe.

Just a wee bit.

And hey – neither of them knew anything about Faith's driving skills, even if she did have a Slayer's constitution that seemed to be a lot better than Buffy's at handling the slight amount of alcohol (three Irish whiskeys and an Irish Coffee) that she'd had.

Not behind the wheel of Xander's not yet completed Shelby restoration project, anyway.

And, well, Oz declined, saying he wanted the snooze, anyway.

Hell, they could walk back to Angel's for the car tomorrow, if they wanted. Not like they hadn't walked the length and breadth of Sunnydale as kids and as monster fighting teenagers.

Xander got the key in and the door unlocked on the second try, purely amazing himself.

"Hey, Jonno," he called out as they headed in. He set the big back of Retriever Brand down in the alcove.

"Hey." Jonathan gave a small wave, getting up from the chair by Xander's computer. "How'd it go?"

"Oh, usual," Xander said, shrugging and trying not to weave in place. Cordelia leaning against him helped – at least they could waver in synch. "Got et by a hyena and shit off a cliff."

"Oh." Jonathan blinked at that, then visibly decided to ignore it. "So, but you got re-integrated?"

"Yeah yeah," Cordelia waved casually. "We're back to just one Dorkus now, with just one personality in his head."

"And a whole bunch of little smart ass voices," Xander said. He and Cordelia exchanged smirks.

"Hey, Oz."

"Jonno," Oz said.

Jonathan looked at Faith with interest. She looked back with somewhat less.

"Oh, and, Jonathan?" Cordelia gestured. "Faith. Faith, Jonathan."

"Oh." Jonathan gulped, took a step back, and his eyes grew wide. "_You're_ Faith?"

"We ever meet?" Faith said, scowling.

"N-n-no... " Jonathan said, shaking his head. "But when we were doing the Supervillain thing, we heard things. From, uh, the demon community."

"Ah." Faith nodded. "Believe 'em."

Jonathan took two more steps back, and she smirked.

Cordelia swatted her on the shoulder. "Quit scaring the geek, Faith."

"Aww."

"Hey, Oz?" Xander said, and Oz raised an eyebrow. "Could you maybe take this stuff in the kitchen or pantry and give Ghani a dish, and a bowl of water?"

"Sure."

"I'll help," Faith said, hoisting the fifty pound bag of dog food onto one shoulder.

Ghani came running in from outside, looked around, and ran over and stuck her nose in Jonathan's crotch, sniffing and wagging furiously.

"Who's dog?" he asked, squatting down to pet her and ruffle her ears.

"Mine," Xander said at the same time Cordelia said, "Mine." They glared at each other.

"Ours." Sigh.

"Oh. Ok."

"Oh, Jonno?" Xander said, "Snag your stuff out of the other room. You're moving to the sofa bed. Darkwing Duck – "

"I heard that!"

He raised his voice, "– you were meant to!" and finished, "in there gets the guest room."

"No problem," Jonathan shrugged. He started heading back to the spare room as Xander and Cordelia carefully made their way to the couch and flopped down.

"Cannot _believe_ it's only one thirty-ish in the AM," Cordelia sighed.

"I don't believe it," Xander said. "No _way_ we were only in that spell for two hours. Was... weeks, at least. Maybe years."

"For us, anyway," Cordelia said, nodding. "But you heard what Wizard You said. Only fifty-ish minutes for him." She frowned, "Assuming Mickey was right."

"Hey. Mickey never lies." They grinned at each other.

Oz and Faith came back from the pantry, and picked chairs of their own. There were crunching and chewing sounds from that direction.

"So... " Xander started. All three of them looked and raised eyebrows.

"Oz," he said. "You said we needed to talk?"

Oz raised an eyebrow and inclined his head towards Faith.

"Naw," Xander waved a hand. "She's one of us, now. No matter what Buffy says. 'Sides... My Faith issues are all behind me, anyway."

Faith raised both eyebrows, and he smirked. "Since I pulled your evil younger twin off my younger dumb-ass twin and made a Faith shaped dent in the wall when she hit," he said, grinning, "And then cold-cocked her."

"Cold-cocked?" Faith said, smirking. "Don't think I ever tried it that way."

"More Buffy's thing, yeah," he said, deadpan, and she cracked up. Oz smiled slightly, and Cordelia just rolled her eyes.

"No worries," Faith said. "I was gonna do the same thing when we passed through that sequence."

"She was," Cordelia said, nodding.

"Anyway," Xander said, looking to Oz. Jonathan came back in with his very few items, and they ignored him. For the moment.

"Just was thinking," Oz said. "Might have a clue why I was in there in that cell." He paused, looking reflective, then added, "And why I felt a compulsion to join the integration ritual."

"Oh?'

Oz shrugged. "Did a lot of work on the whole wolf thing. And learned a lot of control, and a few tricks."

"Wait," Faith said. "You mean you can control the change now?"

Oz nodded. "Me to wolf and back. In more than one form."

"Huh." Faith frowned slightly, "You mean like the four-legged ape-wolf thing you used to do and, like, oh, the Teen Wolf when we took down Mr. I AM WALKER IN EVIL in there?"

Nod. "And the Howling."

"Wow."

Oz shrugged slightly, and turned back to Xander and Cordelia.

"So, what," Cordelia said, frowning. "You think you could teach Xander?"

"Some things," Oz said. "Integrated or not, you still have... call it an echo, of what, a Primal Spirit in there? And Primal Slayer?"

"Greater Tutelary Demon-y Entity thingy – Primals were the beast mages doing the rituals," Xander said, "But, yeah."

The werewolf nodded again. "I've had a lot of experience dealing with the echoes of something like that merged into me."

Xander exchanged glances with Cordelia, then looked back at Oz and nodded.

Oz shrugged again, smiling slightly, and added, "It took me a long time to accept this, but it was kind of a key thing. I'm not a man who becomes a wolf, or a part wolf. I'm a whole thing, a _werewolf_, and the wolf is an integral part of me."

Cordelia and Xander exchanged long looks, and nodded. "Can't become part of a thing," Xander said.

"We keep being told this, yes," Cordelia said.

Jonathan came back in, and took a seat perched on the edge of one of the other chairs.

"Oh, hell," Cordelia said, waving tiredly at him. "Relax, for crying out loud. Sit back, ease up, chill, whatever. And Faith's not going to eat you – you can quit giving her nervous looks."

"Oh, I dunno, C," Faith said, licking her lips and eying Jonathan. She looked to Cordelia and waggled her eyebrows. "They say once you go Geek, you never go back."

Jonathan gulped loudly, and edged farther back in his chair. Xander snickered, and got a dimpling grin from Faith.

"Oh, have at," Cordelia said. "Just not on the couch – _we_ sit there."

"Aww. You're so sweet."

"Oh, shut up."

"Don't think you helped any with stopping the nervous looks," Oz remarked.

Faith smirked, then cocked her head, examining Xander critically. Finally, she nodded. "Fang was right," she said. "You have changed. Both of you."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow, and Xander shook his head. "Naw," he said. "Still me."

"Nuh uh," Faith said, shaking her head. "Watched all that, remember? Geek-boy you, not in all those years, wouldn't of made that 'you'd hit that' crack to Cordy. And she wouldn't have just swatted you and shrugged it off and moved on, not back in High School when you were together."

"Three years with Anya," Xander said, easily. "Inhibitions are the first thing to go."

"Not that I saw," Faith said, easily. "And Queenie here wouldn't have popped Wes and that other Watcher guy, and threatened another, and then just shrugged it off and moved on, neither."

Jonathan gave Cordelia a startled look, and gulped again, quietly.

"Don't know if you guys caught the Homecoming thing and Slayerfest," Xander said, shrugging, "But she backed down Brother Gorch and sailed on without batting an eye."

"Killing monsters and killing humans is different, Xan," Faith said, "Take it from me."

"Who says I just shrugged it off and moved on?" Cordelia said, snorting. "I'll probably have nightmares about that for _years._"

"Yeah, but you'll deal," Faith said. "You didn't freak, you just buckled down and did what was needed. Just like you'll deal with that, what, Warren thing. Hell – you'll probably deal _loads_ better than I did with Finch."

"We grew up, Faith," Xander said, quietly.

"I couldn't _possibly_ deal _worse_," Cordelia added.

Faith grinned at her. "Yup. Pure steel, all the way, like I said." She inclined her head to them again, "And the two of you. Been watching at that shindig at Angel's. Even when you're not _touching_, you're touching and _a__ware_ of each other. From across the room, even. _Never_ like that growing up or when you were dating – not that I saw."

They exchanged looks again. Xander sighed, said, simply, "Been a pretty intense bonding session this past week or so. Especially recently."

Cordelia nodded.

"And the nightmares?" Faith waved, negligently, "You break apart, someone will pick up the pieces and you'll go on."

"Someone picked up yours," Oz said, eying her intently.

The brunette Slayer nodded. "But it took a stab in the gut, an eight month coma, a lot more badness and a souled vamp before it happened," Faith said. She shrugged, "Just sayin', is all."

"Well, we'll see," Xander said. "I do know, now, that it'll all shake out."

Cordelia nodded. She raised an eyebrow, said, "So, where did you leave your van? And, uh, yourself?"

Oz smiled. "With some musician friends outside of Helena. And, up in the High Rockies near the Montana, Canadian, Idaho borders."

"Oh?"

Nod. "There's a... group, extended pack, whatever, of wolf-weres up in that areas. I was doing some post-grad."

"Wolf weres?" Faith lifted an eyebrow.

"Like werewolves, only backwards."

"Oh! You mean," Cordelia nodded. "Like Tera whatshername in 'Fool Moon.'"

"Geek." Xander said, sprawled back comfortably with his hand on her knee, and his eyes half closed.

"Oh, shut up. Dork."

"Ah. You mean, like wolves that change into people?"

"Well, werewolves are people," Oz said, mildly, "But, yeah. Like that."

"Cool."

"Well... " Xander yawned. He stretched, looked at Cordelia. "You guys carry on. I'm done." He glanced over, "Oz? You get the couch. Jonno here has squatters rights on the sofa bed due to seniority."

"No probs," Oz said. "I'm easy."

"I've heard that about you." They grinned at each other. "By the way," Xander said, "Glad you're here. Been needing more guy friends."

Nod.

As he and Cordelia were starting to lever themselves up from the sofa, there was a ring of the doorbell, followed by a knocking.

"Well, crap," Xander said.

* * *

Everyone looked at each other. Faith shrugged, and said, "I'd get it, but it might be the cops." Jonathan nodded.

"Yeah, being on the lam from the fuzz has its downside, schweetheart," Xander said.

"Fuzz?" Faith stared at him incredulously. "What is this, Mod Squad?"

"Nah. Xander's Angels."

Cordelia hit him with the obligatory swat! to the arm. "You _wish,_ dork."

"I'll get it," Oz said. He uncoiled easily from his chair and headed to the door. Faith and Jonathan looked at each other and then moved to the kitchen as Ghani came running out and headed to the door after Oz.

Cordelia and Xander looked at each other again, shrugged, and sat back down.

The front door opened, and from the foyer alcove, they heard a voice say, "Oz? Why, uh, hello."

"_Giles?_" They exchanged looks again.

"Oh, and hello. Uh, nice dog. There's a good fellow."

The pair, err, trio came into the living room, and Ghani ran and jumped up on the sofa, curled around three times and laid down with her head in Xander's lap, sighing heavily.

"Well, hello," Giles said, nodding to them. He had one of his summer weight suits on, and a leather portfolio in one hand, and looked more than a bit rumpled and bleary.

"Hey, Giles," Xander said, echoed by Cordelia. "Wasn't expecting you until, uh... "

"Oh, next weekend at least," Cordelia finished.

"I, ah, yes." Giles set down the folio on the coffee table and took a seat across from them. Oz resumed his. "Had an abrupt change of plans."

"And some watchdog _you_ are," Xander scolded, looking down. Ghani rolled her eyes at him, snorted, and went back to sleep.

"He's not a jackrabbit," Cordelia said.

"He _is_ a Watcher, though," he said. They exchanged smirks.

"Err, yes," Giles said, removing his glasses. He smiled at the pair of them as he began polishing them. "And I must say – you two certainly look domestic."

"It's a couple thing," Oz said.

The others came back in the living room, carrying glasses of iced tea.

"Uh... Faith?" Giles looked up and over at her, half rising with a slightly shocked expression. "I, uh, thought you were... "

"In the slam?" Faith said, deadpan. "Was. Broke out, came here to rape and strangle Xander again, and ran into Cordy, Oz, and Jonno and we had an orgy instead."

"Oh, you _so_ did not! And _we _sodid _not!_"

Faith flashed her a grin full of dimples, and sat back down in her chair. "Yeah, but it was funny, though, huh?"

Giles shook his head, and sat back down. He went back to polishing his glasses, looking at her, then back to Cordelia and Xander.

"Well, I'm going to assume that there's a – "

"Rational explanation?" Xander waved a hand. "Nah. There is _nothing_ rational about all this. Just roll with it – we are."

"I see," Giles said, nodding and replacing his glasses. He looked at Jonathan over the rims, frowning. Jonathan squirmed and looked uncomfortable.

"Uh, Giles, uh... " he began.

"He gave himself up, Marshall," Cordelia said. "We got him in witness protection now."

Giles looked sharply at her, his lips twitching into a small smile. "Well, I see that Xander's sense of humour is rubbing off on you rather fast."

"Uh oh." Xander said. "We do have shots for that."

Cordelia swatted him. "Not that we're not happy to see you, Giles, but, what – uh, how?"

"Ah, yes. The reason I'm early... " Giles glanced at Oz, Faith, and Jonathan and then back to them, raising his eyebrows.

Jonathan started to rise, saying, "Uh, I'll... "

"_Sit_." Cordelia said, commandingly. He sat. "It's ok Giles. Shoot. They're all... in the know, now, anyway."

"I'm not," Oz said, smiling slightly.

"Oh, hush." Cordelia said. "You will be."

"Oz gets any more hushed, we'll be able to put doors in him and use him for a quiet room," Xander said, getting another swat for his efforts.

"Ah. All right then," Giles said, picking up his folio and leaning back.

"Would you like some tea, Giles?" Xander asked.

"Oh, yes – that would be lovely."

"I'll get it," Jonathan said. "I found the tea and makings while you were in the hospital."

Xander nodded, and gave his attention to Giles again.

"Yes. right then." Giles opened the folio, "As I was saying, or starting to, the reason I'm earlier than I, er, we'd expected is because I ran across some rather e-err, pertinent information, I believe."

Everyone looked at each other, then back to Giles.

"Straighten me, brother," Xander said, "For I am bent."

"Hrmm?" Giles looked at him, faintly puzzled, then shrugged slightly, and began taking out papers from the folio, along with a pair of slender, reasonably large volumes.

Xander shrugged. At least Oz got the Callahan's reference. The two books had a pair of wood cuts of a pair of predictably hideous faces tooled into the oxblood leather covers, one each, and script in some incomprehensible language. Probably demonic: it was that kind of year so far.

"All right," Giles said. "Since I returned to England and began working more closely with my Father, I've had access to resources I had not had before. And during the course of my research, I encountered a few items that caused me to, err, accelerate my departure for Sunnydale a bit."

He looked at Cordelia, then Xander, and back to Cordelia, gazing at her intently. "Have either of you ever heard of something called the Book of Aberjian, and the Nyazian Chronicles? Oh – ah, a-and something called the Tro-Clon?"

Cordelia blinked.

"Oh, crap."

* * *

.


	37. Those Whom the Gods Wouldst Destroy -

**Interlude the Third: Those Whom the Gods Wouldst Destroy (They First Invite Over for Brunch)**

* * *

"_This is the __E__arth. And this is Pinky. You can tell the difference quite easily. One is a lump of inert matter hurtling blindly through the void. The other... is the __E__arth.__"_ ― The Brain

* * *

_An indeterminate time and place in the Never Never:_

"Have to be handing it to you, now," the dark haired one said, looking down. He was of a bit better than medium height, black haired, and with brilliant blue eyes that were currently sparkling with amusement. He had on a rumpled sports shirt, brown chinos, and a leather jacket, and a rolled up racing form was stuck in his back pocket.

He laughed softly, continuing, "Man. Having that last seminar filled to standing room only so that Harris had to decide to head out early, passing through the Palazzo to use that free pass to the Lamborghini Las Vegas auto show he was given, that was – "

"A master stroke," said the blonde woman, nodding. "Definitely." She was wearing a stylish and elegant looking Edwardian dress and over jacket, with a matching hat and parasol over one shoulder in her hands, and had blue green eyes and a definite sensual look to her.

"I'm telling you," said the rumpled one with the porkpie hat. "It's all in how you handle the finer details when yer doin' this stuff." He shoved his hands in his pockets and fell into an expression that was halfway between smug and chagrined. "I messed up on the earlier go with Rat Boy, when I introduced him to his project and didn't think he'd be doin' all his thinking with the smaller head – "

"– Male," The blonde woman said. "Should have seen that one coming, Whistler. I mean, _really_."

"Fer chrissakes, Darla," the rumpled looking Whistler hunched his shoulders and shook his head. "She was barely _fifteen_ for cryin' out loud."

"And Liam grew up in an era when gentlemen from good families in their late twenties often married young ladies in their mid to late teens. Really." She looked exasperated. "Doyle, _you_ tell him."

"Yeah, well, it was bein' a right cockup, whatever caused it," said the dark haired one, his eyes twinkling at her.

"Yeah, well, I had to do some hasty and not really well executed scrambling to pull that one out when he screwed out his soul and went for the big end of the world ploy, sheesh," Whistler looked sour. "Lurker Boy was supposed to _stop_ Acathla, not _use_ him."

"It's thinkin' Buffy wasn't supposed to be around to get in the way by then, I am, right?"

"Yah. Never saw that freaking _Harris_ kid comin' back _then_, neither," Whistler said, giving Doyle a sour grin. "Blondie was supposed to be dead in the Master's cave and _Kendra_ was supposed to be the active Slayer at that point."

"So... " Darla said, frowning, "You decided _this_ time to make _use_ of Alexander's propensity for cutting the skeins of fate, monkeywrenching, and unraveling destiny."

"By aiming him at the Chase girl deliberately when she was in a confused and off balance emotional state between Angel and the Groosalug, and still reeling from Skip's little birthday party favor. Yup." Whistler smirked and took of his hat, running a hand across his hair and looking smug. "Like lobbing the Unholy Hand-grenade of Antioch in the works."

"Once ye've pulled the pin, Mr. Grenade is no longer bein' your friend," Doyle said, snickering.

"And here I was under the impression that was the _Holy_ Handgrenade of Antioch," Darla mused. "At least in that bizarre movie."

"Not in this case, kiddo." Whistler settled his hat back on firmly. "Ain't _nuthin' _holy about Xander LaVelle Harris's freaking tendency to throw the Fates outta kilter."

"Well, lemme see, if it's having this right I am," Doyle said, "Great great great descendent of Saynday – one of the sons of Coyote – and born on the Winter Solstice... touched by Chaos and Janus via that ill-begotten spell of Rayne's, and carrying a remnant of a greater totem... I'm not seein' as how the boy could be anything _except_ an avatar of Chaos."

"And he's a LaVelle on one side, don't forget," Darla added. "And Rayne really shouldn't have invoked Janus in that fashion. Irking the god of transformation and doorways isn't well met."

Whistler shrugged. "That schmuck Rayne was looking at the Beginning and Endings, Gates and Doorways and transformational aspects, and forgetting that Janus was _also_ a protector and a household guardian deity. _Not _a god of Chaos and death."

"So, but how'd you know that Cordelia wouldn't just slap him and storm off? Looking to be a near thing to me," Doyle said.

"Subtlety. You need to master that if you're gonna be a good 'balance demon'," Whistler said, "Ta steal an assumption from the Summers gal, anyway."

"Oh, please. The boy is a _LaVelle_." Darla rolled her eyes.

Doyle gave her a sharply curious look, and she snorted.

"While Jean Lafitte was making a reputation as a pirate, a scoundrel, and a lover along the Barbary Coast, Alexander's ancestor Jacques LaVelle was privateering and romancing, wenching, and breaking hearts all though the Caribbean and the East Indies. _And_ leaving by blows wherever he went." Darla smirked. "The poor girl never had a chance."

Doyle grinned at her and she threw him a saucy wink.

"You don't seem awfully perturbed by this turn of events, Doyle," Whistler observed.

"It's being happy I want for my Princess," Doyle said. "Harris makes her happy, even if he does keep her off balance and drive her insane. And I hated that _Groo_ for her."

"And Angel?" Darla hooked her hand through Doyle's arm and looked up at him. Not too far up – he wasn't that much taller.

"Would have been in the way of an unmitigated disaster for Cordy, an' vice versa," Doyle said. "Which is why that Skip and this Jasmine were tryin' to maneuver them together." He snorted, "And, me, I'm a bit in the way of bein' dead."

"Only mostly dead, dear," Darla said and Doyle laughed, patting her hand.

"Still didn't answer the question, Whistler," Doyle remarked.

Whistler shrugged. "Unfinished business between the two of them. He kept her heart when he broke it, and she took his with her. Only luck of the draw kept him from showing up in L.A. before and capturing her back."

"Luck, and Skip's machinations," Darla said. "Aiming Anya back at Sunnydale instead of her going to that Hollywood party where Cordelia and Angel met back up was brilliant on his part."

"Lesson the second," Whistler said, nodding, "Never forget the opposition is as smart and as good as you are, even when they ain't."

Darla snorted, arching her eyebrows at him. "Not so much with the 'ain't', apparently."

"Well, yeah," Whistler took on a disgusted expression. "Gotta admit, causing that engine breakdown at the edge of Oxnard when Carpenter Boy was seriously thinking about turning and heading south to L.A. was a stroke of genius. Having that wanna be actress get an invite to that party so you and Soul Boy ended up bumping into the Cheerleader there and knocking her off course wasn't exactly sloppy work neither."

"Wait," Doyle blinked at him. "You mean that me and Angel were _aimed _at Cordelia?"

"Oh, hell yes," Whistler said, disgustedly. "Tina would have hit Margo up for her money elsewhere if she hadn't gotten the party invitation. And if she hadn't been diverted by bumping into you two clowns, Chase would have met that director, whassiname, Will Stone, and gotten an invite to do a reading for the reboot of 'The Further Adventures of the Star Wanderer'." He sighed, shaking his head. "What a frigging cockup. She never would have ended up at Russell Winter's place."

"Well... crap," Doyle said, looking pole axed.

"Well phrased, darling," Darla said, smirking at him.

"Oh... piss off," Doyle said. "Pardon my French and all, milady."

"I do believe that's an Anglo-saxonism, dear boy."

Doyle sighed, giving her a fondly exasperated look. He looked back to Whistler.

"And then she'd have bumped into Sorbo, who was bein' considered for a role in that reboot," Whistler said, scowling. "Woulda been a hell of a lot better than that Kull flop, or that Andromeda abortion, lemme tellya. Bit part for the Prom Queen, but it would've gotten her started and noticed."

"So, you're implyin' you knew that once Harris discovered the story on the visions and the demon aspect thing, that he'd go balls out to try an' figure out what was up and wreck it," Doyle said. "And that he'd integrate and take Skip's plans apart, an' be instrumental in taking down Jasmine's assassin demon – or rather, enabling him, Cordy, his Wizard Self, and that Faith gal to take her down."

"Knew he'd turn the world inside out for the cheerleader, yup," Whistler said. "Figured there was about a fifty-five percent chance on the other."

"Save the cheerleader, save the world?" Doyle asked.

"Nah. He's saving the cheerleader and letting the world look out for its ownself."

"What _I'm_ not understanding," Darla said, "Is, if Alexander is such pure poison to fate and destiny, how _you_ were able to manipulate him into doing _your _bidding for the Fates."

Whistler grinned. "Because I _didn't_, and I'm _not_, that's just it. I just tossed Harris in the middle and gave him his head. Everything else follows naturally."

"Ah," Darla said, nodding. "Subtlety. I'm getting the distinct impression that it's a miracle that things aren't screwed up even worse," Darla added, fixing Whistler with a critical gaze. "If this is such a critical plane and situation for our Lords and Masters," the scorn with which she loaded that phrase could corrode acid, "Then one might think they would have, oh, _someone_ monitoring it more frequently."

Whistler glared at her. She met his eyes evenly, gazing back steadily, unperturbed. After a time, he hunched uncomfortably and glanced away. Darla smiled slowly.

"Yeah, well," Whistler said, still looking anywhere except at her eyes. "Gotta understand, it's not like the Green Lantern universe where there's one Lantern per sector. More like one of us per _hundred_ sectors or more. The Bosses keep me moving more than a one armed paper hanger. And for a long time, I was elsewhere, showing first Demon Boy here, and then him _and_ you the ropes."

"Which does nothing to mitigate the fact that this Skip character apparently influenced Alexander and that Rosenberg girl directly under your nose _while_ you were watching this dimension actively and carefully," Darla said, her smiling broadening and growing slightly malicious.

"Hey!" Whistler growled, "Watch it, Toots."

"It's Cordy, man," Doyle said, his own expression a bit dark. "And it's Darla here's son we're discussing."

"Sigh. What can I say?" Whistler asked, deflating a bit. "Not like I'm exactly overburdened with staff to catch the stuff I miss. The only reason I was finally given the OK to recruit assistants is due to over two centuries of pissing and moaning and passing memos up the chain about _just_ that sort of thing." He shrugged, adding, "And I doubt even then that they'd have _acted_ on the memos if it hadn't been for Vocah slipping past to kill the then current Oracles."

Darla's gaze continued to be steady upon his, and unrelenting. "It would be simpler, perhaps, and less convoluted, to simply remove this Skip character from the playing field directly," she said, her tone speculative.

"Not allowed, kiddo," Whistler said, shrugging. "We're constrained from direct action against our counterparts. Any of them."

"Why of course," Darla said, nodding. "Heaven forbid that we do anything... effective."

"Or we could simply tell them _directly_ what's going on, or who's acting against them," Doyle said, cutting his gaze to Darla and nodding thoughtfully.

"Again, we're constrained against that sort of thing," Whistler said, looking away. "They _have_ to figure this stuff out on their own."

"Of _course_," Darla said, nodding. "Perfectly understandable."

"Hey," Whistler said, spreading his hands and meeting her gaze finally, "Neither of you had to _agree_ to my recruitment pitch. There were and _are_ other options."

"And other players, 'tis true," Doyle said, nodding thoughtfully.

"No. If our... employers are going to be taking an active interest in meddling in these lives, with little to no understanding of the costs and consequences of their machinations," Darla said, "Then it is _required_ that they have someone involved in the meddling who has a... benevolent interest to counterbalance and mitigate the damage they are doing."

"Or to at least be attempting to do so, yeah," Doyle said.

"Of course, the fact does remain that there _are_ interested parties who apparently do _not_ have such constraints," Darla said, musingly. "And whom, based upon some of the world lines we've seen, such as that Western world and that Cyborg realm, seem to be more... effective at their meddlings."

"Hey," Whistler said, with deceptive mildness of tone and expression, "The option is always open to seek other employment."

"Nonsense, dear boy," Darla said, smiling sweetly. She patted his arm. "I find myself quite overcome with affection for you and your methodology. Do, please, however, at least _try_ to not make it necessary for us to seek elsewhere. I suspect that you would not like losing your assistants so early in their careers."

"True, that," Whistler said. He gave her a glance that was sharp with suspicion and sharper with speculation. "And I'd really _hate_ having a reason to need to find other recruits, you know?" he added, loading his voice with foreboding.

Darla laughed, her eyes dancing with merriment. "And you would _truly_ dislike finding yourself upon the opposite side of a gaming board from me, I assure you."

"Got a pretty high opinion of yerself there, toots, for someone who first maneuvered herself into getting staked by her own get," Whistler said, smirking malevolently, "And then used as an unliving incubator by our opposite numbers here."

Darla's smile froze, and then became a thing more of sharp edges and teeth than amusement.

"Of course," Doyle said, smoothly stepping in in an attempt to defuse incipient mayhem, "That was being before Darla here was aware of the fact of there bein' larger pictures and outsider influences arrayed against her."

"Quite," Darla murmured, giving him a nod and a somewhat grateful look. She inclined her head to Whistler, her expression rueful. "Pax, for now. No need to do our opposite numbers' work for them."

"I'd say there's been more than enough of that," Doyle said.

"Heh. I'd agree, except that said agreement would cast derogatory connotations upon my abilities," Whistler said, grinning toothily at them. "Ya wanna sharpen your claws on a gaming board, toots, do it on this one against the other players. I promise I'll be suitably impressed."

"I would be quite pleased to say that I live to impress you," Darla said, laughing, "Were it not for the fact that I am a) quite dead, and b) rather more interested in the welfare of my child and the people I _do_ actually care for."

"Which really doesn't make you much different from a certain Glorified Bricklayer of our acquaintance," Whistler said.

"Not that either of us actually ever claimed to be such," Darla said, "But, no. I find myself increasingly enamoured of young Alexander for that particular quirk."

"Neither of us are being much in the way of larger picture types," Doyle said, nodding.

"Especially considering that all of the big pictures are composed of smaller pictures," Darla said. "Something that the Powers seem remiss in considering."

"Just remember that those Powers you're sneering at _are_ concerned with the larger pictures," Whistler said, cupping his head to light a stub of a cigar. He streamed smoke from both nostrils, adding, "They employ beings like us to concern ourselves with the small ones."

"I sneer not. I scoff, in matter of fact." Frowning slightly, Darla asked, "Speaking of smaller pictures, Alexander's Wizard counterpart from the alternate universe? I am to take it that you _arranged_ for him to be waiting in between the Ghost Roads and the Dreamways for Harris, and then for Chase?"

"Ahhh... " Whistler hunched his shoulders and looked away. "As much as I'd love to claim credit fer that one – no. Had nuthin' to do with that. Summers' mother neither. Pure serendipity, I guess."

"Gee, it's a good thing that serendipity seems to be a liking you, isn't it?" Doyle said, smirking slightly. Darla gave him a sharp glance.

"Or possibly yet another player or players taking a hand," Darla said, still eying Doyle speculatively.

"Heh. Always a possibility," Whistler said, shrugging. "Frigging Janus has taken an interest in enough iterations of Harris and Chase in _other_ world lines. Wouldn't put it past old Two-face to be dipping his wick into this one as well."

"So, what's being next?" Doyle asked.

"Well," Whistler pushed his hat back on his head and pursed his lips. "You and the naughty school girl here are off to the Dreamlands to do your next parts in the plan here, and make sure they come off okay." He chuckled, "Me? I'm headed over to take care of a few things while keeping my eye on Rat Boy and kicking him in the ass if he doesn't keep his nose outta the Harris-Chase marriage once he starts brooding on his freaking 'feelings' for her again."

"Poor, dear boy," Darla sighed.

"Poor boy nuthin'," Whistler growled. "Stink Boy damned near let his dick talk him into enabling a freaking apocalypse _again_. He _obviously_ can't be _trusted_ around a female Guide. Or a female _anything_."

"At least poor Connor isn't fated to end up with his throat cut by his father's hand," Darla said, smiling. "_That_ was heading for disaster."

"Yet. And so far," Doyle said.

Darla scowled at him. "At all, dear. That is simply _not_ going to happen."

"Hey, we're not done yet, darlin'," Doyle said, glancing down at her. "Remember what the boss here said about the enemy: they're probably gonna get their licks in before we're done."

"Damned straight. A freaking Power's Champion working for Wolfram and Hart." Whistler shuddered. "Well, off with you. And break a leg, kids."

With a wave of his hand, Whistler opened a Way through the fabric of the Never Never, and motioned them through.

* * *

_Elsewhere: an indeterminate place and time within a pocket realm in the __Etherium__, __somewhere__ between the Outer Realms and the Never After - _

Wow. It was freaking gorgeous here, wherever here was. Peaceful, too.

Cordelia looked around at the pastoral looking countryside, studded about with bits of Grecian looking architecture here and there. Somewhat like the ornate balustrade at the edge of the ornately – and expensively – tiled patio and pool area she found herself standing upon. No, not Grecian, exactly. Romanesque, maybe?

Heh. Cordelia could spot clothing and jewelry fashions at a hundred yards, detect a knockoff, and identify the designer, but despite her Mother's best efforts, she always had been a bit fuzzy on the architecture and antique thing.

"Lovely, isn't it?" a rich, deep male voice with a refined British accent said from behind her. "It's one of the places that the Master of the premises truly loves, even now."

Gasping in startlement, Cordelia whirled to face the speaker, one hand rising to her throat, the other going out instinctively in a warding motion.

"Please don't be alarmed," the speaker said, smiling at her with his hands held up and palms outward before him. "No harm will come to you here, Madame."

"Who, uh, who are you?" Cordelia said, wincing internally at the hesitant and almost frightened way that the words came out. Never show fear. Never.

At first glance, the speaker really wasn't all that fearsome looking. And at second glance, and third even...

He was a tall, rather severe looking elderly man with white hair, and a stiff, almost military bearing. There was nothing in his demeanor that suggested a cause for fear, however. In fact, the twinkle in those faded blue eyes gave lie to even the thought that he might be fearsome...

In fact, he looked like nothing other than a-

"Wow. Uh, Michael _Caine?!_" Cordelia blinked, examining him more closely. Yup. He looked a lot like an elderly Michael Caine, if you squinted a bit. Or possibly what Michael Caine's father might look like at an extremely well preserved late late eighty plus...

"Hardly, Madame," the man said, wincing slightly. There was that to his expression suggest that he was mightily tempted to roll his eyes, but was far too well bred to actually do so. "Alfred, at your service, Madame."

"Al- wait, I died in my sleep and God is Batman's butler?" Cordelia blinked again, scowling. "No, wait, I know this one," she said, holding up a hand. "Sleeping, place in between the Dreamways and the Never-wherever, not dead... yata yata yata. Been here, done that."

"As you say, Madame," the man, uh, Alfred said. He bowed, extending an arm, "And if you would, please?"

"Okay, wait up here, Jeeves," Cordelia said, frowning. "I so thought we were done with all this Dreamways and Dream Walking stuff after last night. Yesterday. Today. When_ever_. So, where exactly are we and where are you wanting to take me, exactly?"

Alfred sighed. "Please Madame. I can assure you that all will be explained. Possibly not to your satisfaction, precisely, but there will be an explanation, none the less. However, for that to occur, you _must_ accompany me to an interview with someone whom I can assure you is far more capable of the explanations you require than I myself am."

Sigh. "_Fine_." Shaking her head, Cordelia gestured with a shooing motion. "Lead on, by all means. Let's get this over with – I've had a long day and I want to get back to sleep."

"As you wish." Alfred bowed slightly to her again, and gestured toward the large French doors at one end of the patio. "This way, please."

Beyond the doors lay an elegantly appointed and furnished room, large, and yet set up and laid out in such a way that it gave a suggestion of warmth and intimacy, rather than the yawning emptiness that one might expect from such a vast and vaulted space. The construction and appointments had a great deal to do with that: it was made of rough hewn stone with rich, natural wood paneling along the walls, and hardwood beams crisscrossed beneath the vaulted ceiling. A huge, mantled fireplace took up a decent sized chunk of one end of the room, wherein flames crackled merrily away, casting a cheery light over that end of the room and the furnishings.

Definitely _not _what Cordelia had been expecting in the decor, going by the outdoor scene beyond the doors and patio...

The dark paneled walls were lined with tall bookcases that were lined with volumes from floor to nearly the ceiling beams, with rolling ladders set about to provide access to the highest shelves. Interspersed between them were displays of mounted weaponry, both archaic and modern. Not strictly utilitarian tools, these, none of them. All that hung upon the display racks and within the glass fronted cases showcased the very finest of the art of the custom blade maker and gunsmith, richly figured walnuts, ivories, ebony, and polished and gleaming sculpted steel.

Game heads lined the walls above the weapon displays, between the bookshelves. Many of them would be familiar to any hunter of any Earth.

Some were of creatures found only in the realms of fantasy and mythology, though, or from the deepest realms of nightmare...

Areas of wall that were not taken up by weaponry held paintings, or shelves with sculptures of bronze and marble. Vallejo hung opposed to Clevenger, and Frazetta met and matched and complimented Remington.

Near to the fireplace and the comfortably furnished sitting area, sat a mahogany coffee table filled with every imaginable delicacy that a human or humanoid being might enjoy, as well as baskets of fresh breads and rolls, and platters of fresh and sliced fruits. An L-shaped bar stood in the corner just beyond the fireplace, equally well stocked with beverages both alcoholic and non.

To one side of the room were several gaming tables, including a high quality and regulation sized billiards table.

Near to and slightly away from the fireplace, a man stood facing toward the flames, his hands clasped at the small of his broad back. As they approached, he turned toward them, smiling slightly, and bowed from the shoulders to Cordelia and her escort.

"Mrs. Chase-Harris, sir," Alfred said, returning the slight bow. He motioned graciously to Cordelia and stepped back slightly.

"Excellent, Alfred. And thank you," the man said, nodding an acknowledgment.

"Shall there be anything else, sir?"

"Not at present, Alfred."

"Very good, sir," the Michael Caine near look alike said as Cordelia studied her... host, she guessed. When she glanced back toward the butler, he had apparently vanished.

She turned back to studying the man. Being. Whatever.

"Okay, so, let's start with who, uh, who are you?" Cordelia said, wincing internally at the hesitant and almost frightened way that the words came out. Never show fear. Never. There was just something about the sense of... _presence _about the man that was disconcerting. "And hey! Where the hell am I? And who the hell are you? Last I remember, I was back in my bed at Xander's apartment after that freaky dreamwalk thing and – "

"Whoa whoa," the man, uh, being maybe? said, making a stop gesture. "One question at a time, please. I promise you that I'll answer them all. Or at least the ones that I can."

"Okay, let's start with the 'who the hell are you' one, Mister," Cordelia said.

As she asked it, she continued to study the man. Being. Whatever. Huh. Wow. And damned near made of salty goodness there. Tall, muscular but not in a hyperthyroid body builder muscle freak way. Just... extremely well built. Light brown eyes, and a long, curly, and sculpted beard, matching the long head of hair falling in curly ringlets down to the broad shoulders. He appeared to be in his mid to late forties. The mien and the face might have appeared more at home in a Greco-Romanesque tunic and over robe with lace up the calf sandals, to match the patio and the countryside, but instead he was wearing black jeans and polished harness boots with a black leather vest over a dark blue, Western cut shirt. A broad black gunbelt with a holstered revolver and a scabbarded short sword balancing it completed the ensemble.

And something about the face, or the head. Some... wrongness...

Jumping in place, Cordelia let out a small shriek, her right hand clapping over her mouth. She backed away, registering finally that the wrongness was the fact that he had two faces, not one. Front and back of the head. The older, handsome and forty-ish bearded face on the front, and a younger clean shaven face on the back -

"Ah. Sorry, I forget sometimes," the being said. "Even still. Let me assume a seeming that's more comfortable for you, and a bit less disconcerting, as clichéd as that might sound."

After a moment, he turned a three sixty in place to show her a normal back to the head, with falling ringlets of hair and everything.

"Better?"

"Well, yeah, some," Cordelia said, nodding. "And, hey, no! You're a demon! I _know_ about demons – you can't fool _me_ no matter what you look like, Buster!"

"I wasn't attempting to, actually. And no, _not _a demon. You have entirely the wrong level and category of personage there," he said, smiling at her. "As to who I am... I'm afraid that I _thought_ that you would recognize me. After all, earlier in the night, you were observing a number of events that a certain Chaos mage invoked through my Aspect."

"Well, no. I mean, do I look like a Watcher or some freak Slayer girl? Duh!" Cordelia said, scowling at him. "So, no, I'm not up on every creepy crawly and tentacled horror in existence and – hey! Waitaminnit! You're Janus? You mean, you're a freaking _God?_"

The being, Janus, whatever, threw back his head, laughing richly. "Good grief, girl. When you get going you rattle on almost like your little red-headed friend. And yes," he said, bowing from the waist. "Janus, Greater God of Gates, Doors, and Paths, at your service. So to speak."

"Hey! I so do _not_ babble!" Cordelia said, her eyes flashing, "Well, except for the part where I so _was_ just now. And you! Where's my damned sword... I have a serious _bone_ to pick with _you_, Mister."

"Moi?" the man, uh, Janus gave her an inquisitive look with the brown eyes twinkling at her. "What have _I_ done to deserve your ire?"

"You – " Cordelia jabbed a forefinger at him, searching for words momentarily. "You? Oh, gee, I dunno. How about screwing up my idiot husband almost beyond recognition with that idiotic spell and that conglomeration soldier thing?"

"Actually, the majority of that was Rayne's doing. And your young paramour did a large part of it to himself," Janus said. Cordelia's eyes flashed, and he held up his hands in surrender. "However, yes, I _do _share some responsibility for it, in that I _am _the one who answered the invocation for that spell."

"Damn straight," Cordelia said, grumbling. Folding her arms across her chest, she glared up at him. "So. Why am I here? And why did you power that idiotic spell, anyway?"

"As to the former.. " Janus began, and then scowled slightly. "But I am being remiss. Please, have a seat. I fear this will turn out to be a lengthy and convoluted conversation. Refreshments?"

"Uh... " Cordelia glanced around, then shrugged and chose a comfortable seat in an overstuffed leather armchair. "Well... no. Wait – Oh no. I've read about this sort of thing. You feed me and then I'm _stuck_ here forever, wherever here is. Or I wake up in a field twenty years from now and everyone's like, _ancient_. Including my husband that I just fought an Eldritch Horror to get back. No thanks."

"Ah, no. This is not Faerie, and you are not Rip van Winkle," Janus said, chuckling. "Just food and drink – _mortal_ food and drink, I assure you. I swear to you that I won't trick you with ambrosia and nectar into becoming one of us. It would defeat the purpose, after all."

"Well... "

"Besides, we simply don't do that sort of thing any longer," Janus said. "It very seldom ends well."

"Well, all right. As long as it's _just_ food and drink," Cordelia said, a bit hesitantly. She fell in beside him as he began to walk toward the set and laden table. "Some coffee would be nice."

"Jamaican Blue Mountain, freshly brewed," Janus said, pulling up a similar chair for himself. He picked up and slid over a serving tray and carafe as she seated herself, and taking his seat across from her. "With real, fresh cream."

Cordelia nodded, serving herself a cup in one of the thick, stoneware looking mugs, and taking a cautious sip. Ok, yum. It so was.

"Ok, so, we've established who you are," Cordelia said. "Or who you say you are. Where are we? Other than 'not Faerie' or wherever."

"Just a facsimile of a place I happen to have loved once," Janus said. "Long gone now, but I enjoy revisiting on occasion."

"Ah. Wait – _am _I dead? I _can't _be dead! I mean, your butler said, and all of that _was _rough but I just – "

"No, you are _not _dead. Greater Titans, girl," Janus said, "Will you please quit going into panic mode every few minutes?"

"I so am _not_ – " Cordelia broke off as Janus gave her a stern and knowing look, and sighed. "Okay, so, maybe small panic attacks. But hey, _you_ try this from _my_ end! It's been a rough week so far, okay?"

"Agreed, it has," Janus said, looking at her understandingly. "And I'm afraid that it will get rougher."

"Rougher than this? Crap. Boy that's something to look forward to," Cordelia said.

"Yes. And, unfortunately, it is what it is. Those idiotic Powers and their adversaries have set a rather large number of powerful effects in motion that cannot be but ridden out now," Janus said, nodding.

"Wait, but you're a God, you said," Cordelia said, her eyes narrowing again. "Can't you just – "

"Wave my hand and make it all go away? Fix everything, up to this point or even reset it all?"

"Well, yeah!"

"No. I'm afraid not. It's outside of the scope of my position and power to do that," Janus said.

"Well... phooey." Cordelia scowled at him. "Okay, so why _am _I here? And why _are _we having this little chat?" she asked, sipping her – truly excellent – coffee.

"Simply put: give all of the portents and machinations swirling about you and your paramour, excuse me – husband now – I felt that it was time for someone to at least speak with you directly and... how should I put this... " Janus frowned, steepling his fingers and looking at her across the peak, "Ah. Yes. Let you know at least that while there are a vast number of forces arrayed against you in this, that you are not completely without allies in your corner."

"Great. Which, since you apparently can't just wave your hand and fix anything, means what? Squat?" Cordelia glared at him over her coffee mug.

Janus shrugged. "My apologies. But there are – "

"I know. Constraints." Cordelia shook her head. "God, I am getting _so _tired of that word."

Spreading his hands, Janus gave her a sympathetic look and said, "Can't say that I blame you. But it is the way of things. Even gods and Powers are constrained, even if only by the rules and accords that we set up for ourselves and agreed to. Or – would you prefer to have things the way that they once were, in the time of Troy, when a handful of beings with immense power, and the egos and temperaments of spoiled six year olds made playthings of humanity?"

"Well... " Cordelia shook her head, sighing. "No. When you put it that way. I guess not."

"Again, it is the way of things at this point. Set up this way when the large part of my brethren and similar beings withdrew our attention and active involvement from this plane of reality, in order to curtail the kind of excesses that my brethren used to indulge in at mortal expense."

"So basically... " Cordelia frowned, pouring herself another cup of coffee while trying to figure out how best to phrase her questions in order to get at least some semblance of a straight answer.

"We cannot directly tell mortals of the machinations of other deities and Powers, nor of the exact natures of those beings. We cannot act directly against each other, nor against each other's designs," Janus said, narrowing his eyes. "We cannot act _directly _against each other's agents and operatives, nor against those of the various powers that were set into place to fill the vacuum left by our withdrawal."

Cordelia glanced up sharply from where she was adding a dollop of cream to her Jamaican Blue Mountain, her own eyes narrowing. Slowly, a smile crept across her lips.

"So... " she began, her voice and expression thoughtful, "You can only act indirectly against those agents and operatives. And those powers and other, uh, gods." Janus watched her intently, apparently following the play of thoughts and emotions across her face.

Or reading her freaking mind, for all she knew. Hey, a god.

Nodding to herself, Cordelia leaned back into her seat, eying him again across the rim of her mug. Cocking her head, she gave him a shrewd look and said, casually, "Only through using people like, uh, me and Xander, and others, as to act. Which makes you different from The Powers that be Dickheads how, exactly?'

"I didn't say that it _did_, essentially," Janus said, inclining his head towards her. "I, at least, do make a point of not using people as... disposable tools to be discarded on a fire and forget basis, and to not use my Champions to destruction."

"Champions. There's that word again," Cordelia said, still eying him carefully. "So. I'm one of your Champions now? And Xander?"

"Alexander, definitely. Albeit that it's not quite as formal a relationship as the one your 'Powers that Be' affect to have with Angelus."

"Whoa. Back the hell up. Not _my _Powers. Not any more," Cordelia said, heatedly.

"Pax," Janus said, holding up a hand, palm out. "Point taken, and I sit corrected. And as for yourself? You have been, on any number of occasions. You _could _have been one of them, at one point, and could be again."

"Ah, so... huh?" Cordelia blinked at him. "Okay, back up. You're going to have to explain that. Preferably using small and easy to understand words, and sentences with verbs and nouns."

Smiling, Janus said, "Think back to the end of the mystical mind tour you and young Faith took within your consort's head."

Cordelia frowned at him, thinking furiously. What the... and then, suddenly as if with a veil clearing away from parts of her mind's eye, she had it. "Oh! Crap. That, uh, Hall of Alternities thing? And Hall of Ages? You mean... ?"

Janus nodded. "In any number of realities, you have been numbered among my most effective agents and my friends and compatriots. In your reality, you might have been, once, had things gone differently."

"Hrmm," Cordelia said, tapping her chin with a fingernail while studying him. She took a moment to phrase her next question carefully. This was almost, well... not quite _fun_, exactly, but challenging. "Might have been, once. Meaning that something happened to make that a non-issue... okay. But Xander is, or was. So... Going back to the whole Ethan Rayne thing."

"Yes?" Janus drawled out the word, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"According to Giles, and, well, you, Rayne called on you to power that spell. Or something like. Which has something to do with Xander being uh... one of yours, right?"

"Marked by virtue of being touched by my Aspect, yes," Janus said, leaning forward slightly, "Placing him within my purview along with that locus and all within who were touched or affected by those magics."

"And I wasn't, because I didn't wear a costume," Cordelia said, frowning.

"To some extent, yes. Unmarked by my aspect, at least," Janus said, nodding. "Further," he added, "By virtue of your removing yourself from my active demesne." He leaned back, steepling his fingers again and studying her across the tips with undisguised curiosity.

"Removed myself from... " Cordelia said, frowning. Her mind racing, in her mind's eye she went over all of the events of that time period through high school, and everything that she'd seen and experienced in her husband's mind's eye. Events passed, connected with snippets glimpsed within the frames of alternate lives, reformed, and knitted themselves into new configurations. "I broke up with Xander because of that stupid kiss. And I left for L.A. and didn't come back."

Nodding, Janus said, "And by virtue of a not _quite _completely implausible chain of events, you then hooked up with the souled vampire and then became nearly irretrievably intertwined with him and his purpose."

"Nearly... " Cordelia trailed off, cocking her head to study him anew. "Until Idiot Boy ran smack dab over me out of the blue, picked me up and kissed me stupider, and somehow convinced me to go and have a quick drink with him and talk. Which somehow turned into multiple drinks, and then drunken debauchery, and then marriage." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Your doing?"

"Partially, yes, and yet, no. Recall that I said that there are a vast array of forces set against you?" Janus asked, and she nodded. He nodded back and said, "We took advantage of your paramour's ability to turn askew the strands of Fate, and the possibilities for redressing an old imbalance. And an old injustice. Problem?"

"I don't like being manipulated," Cordelia said, slowly and almost absently, still studying him with her mind racing furiously, "Even for my own good. But... no. It... gave us a chance to set something right that I didn't even realize was wrong. So, no."

"Good."

"We?"

"Ah." Janus cocked his head, studying her back. "As there are forces arrayed against you, know that there are more than one of us standing behind you."

"Hrrm. And I suppose you won't, or can't, tell me who," Cordelia said, huffing slightly. "So." She blinked, as even more bits and pieces clicked into place. "Freaking _Skip_. And the Powers. They broke us up... manipulated that whole situation somehow."

"How does the phrase go?" Janus spread his hands, looking inscrutable. "I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicion."

"You don't _have _to. And I am going to kill that armor plated bastard," Cordelia said. "Thanks, but I have an idea who's against us. Freaking Skip, and those Powers he says he works for. Why? No – don't bother. To get me out of Sunnydale, and away from Xander, and maybe even Buffy. Okay, why?"

Janus nodded, giving her a not unsympathetic look. "And further, to lead you to Los Angeles, and potentially to cause you to be placed into a position to ally yourself with the Power's Champion, and to be awakened early."

"You seem to be stretching the whole 'cannot directly tell mortals of the machinations' thing," Cordelia said, "More than a bit."

Janus' gaze went hard, and more than slightly cold, and Cordelia shivered despite herself. For a brief moment, he seemed to grow and swell, somehow becoming _more _without changing in the least bit. "You dislike being manipulated. _I _dislike having mine own interfered with, especiallywhen I have specifically exercised my will to declare a demesne and a purview as is my right and my option when I am invoked upon the scale that that idiotic Chaos disciple did with his enchantment."

"Well, then, why? Or why _not? _I mean: you _did_ all of that!" Cordelia said, exasperated. "Giles _said_ so! He said that that Ethan guy used a ritual of some sort to- to, well, _you!_ And that spell nearly destroyed my idiot husband in the long run, along with all of that other crap! If you declared Sunnydale and everyone touched by that as your demesne, then why not ever even _help?_"

"You are assuming that I _did _not, and _have _not," Janus said. "Check your assumptions, and assume again."

"But... " Cordelia scowled at him.

"As to the one, it suited my purposes, and yours, I might add, to have your then paramour retain some semblance of the residue of that spell. The Judge? The Mayor's little graduation party? However, that foolish Watcher was supposed to have followed through and checked for after effects."

"We never were much on follow through, us Scoobies," Cordelia said, frowning thoughtfully.

"Indeed. And had I looked more closely at the aftermath of that incident with the totemic entity, I might have realized this. I did not, and for _that_, you have my apologies," Janus said. "As to the others... who precisely do you think influenced that Toth fellow to go to the Hellmouth rather than seeking out the true Slayer to destroy? Or took efforts to make certain that that item containing Anyanka's former husband-now-troll ended up at the shop so that the Troll Hammer might be later available? Or nudged that chipped idiot to have Mears make his robotic sex toy such a close match for the Slayer? Or influenced your gift to give you warning, however belated, of that misogynistic little man's plans and the outcome and fallout thereof?"

"You mean you... but... " Cordelia stared at him. "But those things nearly _killed _Xander and the others! That Glory chick _did _kill Buffy! And - "

Janus shrugged slightly. "Free will and freedom of choice. We cannot and _will _not face these challenges for you, nor resolve them for you, nor lead you by hand through them. Were we to do so, then we might as well simply manipulate you like marionettes, eliminating the entire purpose of freedom of will."

"Grrf." Cordelia glared while pouring herself some more coffee. "Sometimes, a bit less freedom of choice and a bit more advice might help."

Sighing, Janus said, "All of them, your Alexander and the others, were more than capable of defeating Toth and Anya's former consort, Olaf. And had they given things more thought, and put the pieces together a bit better, things should never have come down to the wire. Glorificus should never have slain Summers, had that been done. As it were, Anyanka had to point out all of the items that could be useful, that had been acquired over the course of a year or more. They had all of the pieces, and your former paramour had, or should have had, the tactical knowledge and insight needed to put them to appropriate use that night."

"Huh. But Xander was starting to unravel badly by that point, and his insights weren't as sharp as they once were," Cordelia said. "So apparently gods aren't all that omniscient, either."

"I never stated that we were, actually," Janus said, mildly.

"True." Cordelia's eyes narrowed, and she said, "Wait. Misogynistic little... the vision about _Warren_? _You _sent that?"

"Where do your visions come from?" Janus said, eying her intently.

"From the Powers... " Cordelia began, then trailed off, scowling again.

"Oh, please. Think back, to your conversation with the Watcher," Janus said, waving his hand dismissively. "What was it that he told you?"

"Wait." Cordelia held up a hand. "It's been a rough week and I've slept since then. And had my husband shot and a whole _bunch _of things. Giles said... that Seers are born, not made, and that, uh, something about the Sybils and divine blood?"

"Yes?"

"Wait, okay, you mean I really _am _descended from a god? I'm a demi-goddess now?" Cordelia blinked at him, her eyes going wide.

"No. Well, yes and no. Not _quite _a demi-goddess, there's not _that _much divine blood in your veins," Janus said, chuckling. "But the Watcher was close to the heart of the matter."

"Huh. Which one? No, wait," Cordelia said, holding her hand up, palm out. "Okay, back up. Demesne, purview... a purview is like an area of influence, right?"

"In this context, yes," Janus said, watching her intently again.

"And your purview is what, exactly?"

"Excellent," Janus said, nodding. "In short, I was and am the God of Doorways and Transformations, Life, Death, and Rebirth, Beginnings and Endings, and the Past and Future. Chaos' devotee, Rayne, irritated me by not taking into account that I am _not_ a deity of Chaos, merely because he required my aspect as God of Doorways and Transformations and Rebirth in order to effect his changes."

"Ah." Cordelia blinked at him again, her mind racing once more. "So, I'm your, uh... " she made a 'help me out here I'm floundering' gesture.

Janus grinned at her, shrugging. "Too many millenia, too many generations, and far too many 'greats' for even me to keep track of. Call me... a distant ancestor, if you will and you must." He frowned, looking thoughtful. "Your husband has possibly an even stronger claim on potential demi-godhood, as a matter of fact."

"Xander?" Cordelia looked at him, boggling. "But- _Xander?_"

"His... as I recall, maternal great great great grandmother was a descendent of Saynday, one of the children of Kunula – Coyote. Making him roughly a thirty-second or so of the blood of Coyote." Janus grinned at her again, adding, "Hence his inborn knack for upsetting the apple cart of Fate and Destiny. Alexander LaVelle Harris was the very _last _person in _this _life that that Rayne idiot should have hit with a concentrated burst of chaos magics."

"Oh, great. And that... _really _explains a _lot_," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. She made a face, her nose scrunching up, and sighed heavily. "I don't _have _to tell him about this, do I? He'll be completely insufferable. Bad enough that I'm gonna have to listen to that 'but I've got balls now' joke for the rest of our lives," she groused.

"As you wish," Janus said, smiling and shaking his head.

"What I _wish_," Cordelia said, fiercely, "Is for Skip and whoever this mysterious Power is to vanish in a puff of evil smelling smoke and go away for_ever_ and leave me _alone_." She glanced around expectantly for a few moments, and then slumped. "Drat. Never a vengeance demon around when you actually _want _one."

"Sorry," Janus said, his tone not unsympathetic, "Apparently, it doesn't work that way."

"Again, drat." Cordelia tossed her head, flipping hair away from her eyes, and looked at him. "Okay. So... these, uh, demon powers are an aspect of me being descended from you?"

"No. Not that simple," Janus said, sounding regretful. "The talent your heritage includes, on that side of the family at least, apparently is for clairvoyance and foresight. Precognition. An extension of my demesne over past and future."

"And according to Giles, I should have, uh, awakened on my own around now if left alone, roughly," Cordelia said.

"Yes," Janus said, nodding, "At some point between your twentieth and twenty-fifth years, your gift possibly would have awakened – it's not a given that it would have at all. I have seen it occur earlier and later in life, albeit rarely."

"And the demon stuff? The bright white light shows, the energy bolts, the healing and demon frying?" Cordelia raised her eyebrows, looking at him. "If not from you, then where?"

Janus spread his hands slightly, giving her an enigmatic – and infuriating – look. "Possibly from a different part of your heritage? Or elsewhere, even? That is something that you now have all of the resources you require to discover and determine, between the Watcher, your witch, and the young demon woman."

"A lot of help _you_ are," Cordelia said, and then frowned slightly. She made a gesture, as if waving away the remark. "No, that's not entirely fair, I guess. You _have _helped, a bit." She poured some more coffee, this time splashing it liberally with a dollop of Irish Whiskey. "So... the doofus was wrong. I _was _destined to become a Seer."

Frowning, Janus said, "Like your young consort, I truly dislike the term and even the _concept_ of Destiny, capital-D, almost as much as I dislike the Norns, the Fates, and the Weird and all of those who choose to attempt to weave the strands of reality into some sort of cohesive tapestry." Holding up a hand, he warded off her burgeoning attempt to say something, and she leaned back again, huffing. "However, there _are _those who ever seem to be placed, by either the universe, or by their own natural inclination and strengths of character, at the heart of great events. And then who are given the choice of rising to the challenge, or falling away from it."

"So, you're seriously trying to tell me that, uh," Cordelia blinked at him, and said, "Me and Xander freaking _Harris_..."

"Alexander," Janus said, leaning back and studying her. "It means, at its heart: Protector of Man. Although in Alexander's case, _he _takes it to mean the protector of his friends and those that he cares for the most."

"Well, yeah. The sun rising the next morning is just a happy bonus," Cordelia said, nodding. "Duh. So?"

"So?" Janus folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Hrmm." Cordelia thought for long minutes, leaning back likewise and sipping at her coffee. The Hall of Alternities in Xander's mind's eye. Hall of Ages, as Lexx had called them. All of those lives, all of those pasts... always intertwined somehow, and always, always at the cusp or the heart of events. Not always _shaping _them, and not always even the main players, but always an influence. And always together, or nearly always...

"Supposing that I buy that for a dollar. And you can't or won't help, directly," Cordelia said, finally. "Can't tell me exactly what Power or Powers has it in for me. Or us... "

"Again, we have helped, by bringing you together with all of the various resources that you need to overcome and triumph, if used intelligently and wisely," Janus said, shrugging slightly. "And no. Suffice it to say... Various. It actually doesn't really matter at this point, as far as pointing a finger at any particular set," Janus said, laughing. "They're all in an uproar and doing the run in circles, scream and shout thing at the moment."

"Hrmm." Cordelia tilted her head, studying him. Tapping a fingernail against her chin, she said, "And you're enjoying every moment of it, aren't you."

"Of course," Janus said, grinning widely at her. "I haven't had this much fun since... well, since the last time that a pair of your and Alexander's incarnations kicked the Powers in the teeth and the Fate's weavings into wreckage."

Shaking her head, Cordelia snickered and said, "Gods. Even _gods_ are mischievous little boys at heart, aren't they? Jeeze... "

"Yup," Janus said, looking wholly unrepentant. "Just be glad that we're not as bad as we used to be. _Most_ of us have grown up a bit by this point. Although we have some doubts about Coyote and Loki... and Eshu has an entertaining tendency to kick over a hornet's nest whenever he gets bored, just for shits and giggles."

Sighing, Cordelia shook her head. "Good, well, _you_. We're in the hands of infinite power and infinite childishness."

"Yeah. Ain't it grand?"

They exchanged long looks, and then both burst out into a fit of snickering. Cordelia followed as Janus turned and went back to the table, pouring herself some more coffee. Hrmm. Fantastic strawberries, she thought, sampling some of the food now...

"It's really so not funny," Cordelia said, finally. "All the deaths... and all the destruction. All of the missteps and the things that could have worked out better."

"I know," Janus said, sobering. "Truly, I know. Of course, not all of those deaths and the rest can be laid at the feet of Powers manipulating you all, nor even at your own missteps. But I do realize that that doesn't help. My empathies."

"It helps. Not _much_, you understand, but... " Cordelia said, nodding. "Not good enough, but it helps."

"Anyway, take your pick. They're practically _all _gnashing their teeth and muttering vile imprecations at their machinations being blown to Hades on this plane by all of this," Janus said, snickering again. "Bad enough when your young man kicked things over by shaming and forcing that brooding vampire to lead him down to the Master's Lair, and then gave Summers the breath of life, but that was considered more or less manageable, I suppose. Doing it again now, with you, is driving various entities _insane_ trying to figure out and contain the ramifications."

"Which are... ?" Cordelia asked. She frowned again, and held up a hand. "No, don't tell me, let me guess. Angel. It's all about Angel. Jeeze, Dorksome had it right: we're all just bit players in the Buffy and Angel drama."

"To an extent," Janus said, nodding. "You have to understand, the various Powers see themselves as engaged in a vast conflict, the heart of which is the survival of the multi-verse. Or the control of it, anyway, in the battle against those with... malevolent intentions. Individuals pale in their minds to the scope of that overarching reality. What you know of as the Powers that Be are concerned primarily with their Champions – selecting, shaping, forging, and tempering them to fulfill a crucial role in some major event in the grand design."

"And everyone else: me, Connor, Wesley, Buffy, all of us, are only really important to them as we affect that... forging process," Cordelia said, her eyes narrowed. "That... seriously annoys me."

"It should."

But not to you?" Cordelia asked, her eyes searching his.

Janus shrugged. "Individuals _are _the design. Without you, the design doesn't _matter_. Those of us who elected to _not _withdraw completely from our involvement in the mortal realms have never forgotten that."

"And your goals?" Cordelia asked. "I'm figuring that you have to have some, or you wouldn't bother with all of this."

"A fair question and simple enough," Janus said. "We wish to see you – humanity as a whole – reach a point where you can grasp and take control of your own destiny, completely free from the machinations and guidance of gods, demons, and powers. Nothing more, nothing less."

Cordelia bit at her lower lip, nodding, her gaze gone distant. "So," she said, finally, "Will I remember all of this? Or will it vanish as if it never happened?"

"Oh please," Janus said. "As I said, unlike a number of my ilk, I at least attempt to not be an unmitigated asshole. I didn't go to the trouble of bringing your dreaming self here to my private retreat for a talk just to have you lose all memory of it upon waking." He smiled at Cordelia, shrugging, "However, unlike a Slayer dream or other mystical dream, you'll probably have it fade a bit, and have bits and pieces come back to you as you recall them. Similar to a normal dream – if you don't grasp it immediately upon waking and write it down, it begins to fade from your conscious mind. But rest assured: all of it is still there ready to be retrieved."

"Oh, good," Cordelia said, nodding, "'Cause the other thing? That would be made of suck."

"The Watcher should know techniques for dream retrieval," Janus suggested. "Ask him if you need to, to recall the finer details."

"Including the whole Hall of Ages and Alternities thing?"

"Ah. That will probably fade," Janus said. He shrugged, adding, "As the analytical portion of your husband's mind stated, the human conscious waking mind isn't geared toward encompassing non-linear time and the full extent of the structure of the multiverse. It deliberately blanks out that awareness to keep from going mad, even though the awareness lives within the subconscious."

"And comes out in the shape of deja vu," Cordelia said, nodding.

"And the odd hunch, sometimes," Janus said. "A number of which are just that: hunches – the mind reaching a conclusion from subconsciously assembling bits and pieces of information. Others... brief and disconnected glimpses of realities where one has already solved that or a similar problem." He paused, adding, "As a seer – a precognitive – you have a higher level of access to that, as in being able to catch glimpses of non-linear time, and a bit more of a tolerance, but only so much. Only the minds of deity-level beings and similar can grasp the totality of reality safely, and even we have our limitations in that."

"Hrrm. Well, every little bit helps," Cordelia said.

* * *

_Dreamlands, the Fantastic Realms, some hundred leagues east of Dylath-Leen -_

_"Fix it."_

The words hung in the air long after the amorphous, formless speaker had faded from view.

'Fix it,' he thought, snorting derisively. Jeezus crap, why don't _you _fix it, Boss? It's _your _complicated half assed 'plan' that got this so gods be damned hosed up to begin with.

Of course, the mercenary demon hadn't _said_ that, or even thought anything along those lines so long as his patron was present. One just didn't make comments like that to one's employer.

Especially not when said employer was decidedly _not _a demon, in fact was as far beyond the category of mere 'demon' as he himself was beyond the scum and riffraff that claimed that status in the physical realms. Not quite a god, and a long way from being a true Power yet... but his patron _vastly_ outweighed him in the power playoffs.

_That_, of course, was a massive part and parcel of his payoff for this gig.

Once his patron's machinations paid off down the line, and it was able to fully manifest and achieve both meta-awareness and ascend to full fledged Power status, it would have power to burn.

Power enough to immediately outclass and take its place above the so-called Powers that Be and the Senior Partners as well.

Power enough to challenge the old gods. Possibly enough to even challenge the Great Old Ones.

Power enough to remake a large slice of the World's Dream in its own scintillating image.

And power enough that a dollop of hits puissance invested in its contract employee would catapult _him_ to the status and stature of a full blown Lord of the Underdark.

Maybe he'd set up in some pocket realm between the Etherium and the Never After like so many of the old gods and the various ascended beings had done. Get him a bevy of demon babe concubines and minions like that putz D'Hoffryn had. Style himself a 'Justice Demon' the way he'd heard that so many of D'Hoffyrn's bimbos were doing these days. Heh, or better yet: an _In_justice Demon.

He grinned. _That _had a nice ring to it.

He, if indeed 'he' was an appropriate appellation, stood well over six foot and was massive in bulk and musculature, covered all over in steel colored armor plating. A pair of curving, branching horns rose in arcs from the sides of his head, and long metallic spikes curved up from his shoulders and various other places. One curling branched horn was shorter than the other, by nearly a third, and jagged at the end – as if broken off in some long ago fight and not ever quite grown back. Which indeed was the case.

These days he answered only to 'Skip'. It had been so long since he'd used his True Name, much less heard or answered to it, that he barely remembered what it was, even.

"Goddamned porkpie hatted munchkin," Skip growled, his voice sounding like the movement of a rusty grate. "The hell that friggin' pimp managed to pull that set up with the Boy Wizard and the Eldest Slayer Bitch outta his ass, I'll never know."

Skip gave another steam kettle, derisive snort. "Friggin'," he made an indescribable noise deep in his throat that sounded like a Klingon gargling with barbed wire, "~*~!~# _should _have torn that damned carpenter's soul – _souls_, whoda figured he had multiples? – apart like rice paper confetti. 'Stead, that damned supposed to be dead witch and that frigging vengeance demon managed to send him and the brain dead cheerleader to the _last_ freaking place they needed to wind up. And the gods be rotted ~*~!~#'s are freaking _expensive_, too. Shit."

He threw his hands up, pacing back and forth across the vaulted stone chamber. "And the Boss thinks it's all _my _freaking fault. Had the damned Seer almost primed, too – a little bit more, and a nudge, and she'd have been all ready to make with the sparklies and the rising up into the 'heavens' crap."

Skip growled deep in his chest. "But noooo. Goddamned Whistler had to somehow put that damned punk _human _across her path in Vegas. Shit. I shoulda simply broken that little twerp's neck way back when, 'steada getting fancy."

Snarling again under his breath, Skip threw himself into a large wrought and metallic chair, and dug into a carved stone chest near his feet. Pulling out a large earthenware bottle that was dripping with condensation, he twisted off the cap and upended it, taking a deep draught.

Damned shame, he thought, that he couldn't just pull the heads off of the badly dressed pimp wanna be and his two cohorts. But nah – part of the Accords that bound all of the various Powers when the old gods withdrew constrained any of the Agents of those various Powers from acting directly against each other. Physically or otherwise, and Skip knew better than to try. Just as those same Accords constrained the Powers themselves and the old – and newer – gods from direct conflict with each other.

Probably a good thing, Skip thought, grudgingly. The old days when Herakles, Ares, Wotan, and their ilk used to beat on each other directly got pretty wild and hairy at times. And destructive.

Not that them acting through their various Champions and mortal representatives had been much better, at least for humanity and the various related species. Just ask the Trojans about that one...

Skip took another long draught from his bottle, and then smiled slowly.

Of course, no Accords protected the mortal representatives _themselves_.

Heh. That's what Champions were for. Dying. That's why the Powers were always needing, forging, and grooming replacements.

Champions died, and that was the way of things.

That was their freaking _job_.

Integrated and beefed up or not, the human construction worker _was _man most mortal. As was Angel's bimbo Seer. As were the Slayers.

Wouldn't do to be overt about it, or to act against the mortal directly. He wanted to cut the frail off from her support and seduce her, not set her dead against everything and off on some vengeance kick.

Needs be, he could always Ascend the bitch directly without her consent. Harder to do, but doable. Nice to have a last resort option.

Save the cheerleader, save the world. Kill the carpenter, damn the cheerleader, and damn the world. Worlds.

Skip grinned malevolently, and made a sound that was reminiscent of the noise a dying dolphin makes while mating.

"S'all right, Whistler," he said. "You wanna get cute? Two can play that crap."

Knight of Ghosts and Shadows my shiny metallic ass.

The thought cued another, and the metallic demon scowled briefly. Have to also make _sure_ to not leave fingerprints that any higher beings can detect. _Really_ wouldn't do to attract the attention – or the ire – of old Two Faced.

At least not to himself...

Ever since that idiot Chaos Mage, Ethan Rayne had invoked the old bastard for that bit of Samhain fun of his, the God of Gates and Doorways had declared that damned and damnable township, the active Hellmouth, and its environs to be a part of his own demesne and purview. And all within it that had been touched by that wave of chaos magic to be under his dominion.

It was only by virtue of having been able to manage to separate the damned cheerleader bitch from her asshole boyfriend in the first place, and get her _out_ of frigging Sunnydale and to L.A. – out of the area of Intellectus of the old bearded god – that Skip had been able to pull off his patron's machinations with the future Mother. If she'd stayed there under the old bastard's purview, then no one and nothing _outside_ of the normal range of supernatural menaces would have dared to lay claw or scheme upon her. She'd have been hands off to both his employer _and_ to the likes of him.

Oh well. Soon enough, they'd be out of that pestilent burg and back into the greater world. Fair game again.

Tossing away the empty, Skip dug another bottle from the cold chest, and leaned back to contemplate things. Specifically, he began to contemplate the possibilities inherent in Wolfram and Hart.

Specifically, one Lilah Morgan and her awakened interest in a certain carpenter turned chaos dispenser...

Hey. Always nice if you can kill two players with one idiot ball.

That didn't work, well, then... he'd just have to accelerate the program _without_ all of the preliminaries. Clumsy, but _that_ had its advantages also.

* * *

.


	38. I Think We're Alone Now

**Epilogue the Second: I Think We're Alone Now (There Doesn't Seem to be Anyone Around)**

* * *

"_When single you are, Roger said, imitating Yoda dispensing advice to Luke, get laid you can. When married you get, make love you do."_ ― Sean Kennedy _(Tigers and Devils)_

* * *

Xander woke slowly, thoughts beginning to gently percolate through his brain. He felt Cordelia stir in the circle of his arm, against his chest, and he smiled.

_'No hangover, Chief,' _Still Small remarked. _'That's an accomplishment. Heh__ – __and we got laid again last night. Score!'_

We're _married_, dumb ass. It's to be expected now.

_'Shows what you know.'_

He stretched slowly and luxuriantly, without opening his eyes. Cordelia gave a low, protesting groan when his arm went away, and snuggled in closer to his chest, her left leg going across his. She murmured something that sounded like 'doan wanna go to school' and stilled, smacking her lips.

Xander's smile went a little broader and more lopsided. He put his arm back, and ran his hand slowly down the length of her back, to and over the curve of her ass.

She moaned again, not nearly as protesting as before, and her hips began a slow undulation against his thigh with the motion of his hand.

He did it again, testing and got the same result. Once more, and he ended by sliding a finger between and along the cleft between her cheeks. He felt his morning hard on harden further as her inner thigh rubbed over him.

Cordelia moaned, lower and more gutturally, and hooked the heel of her left foot into his upper calf and drew herself further over him. Her hips bucked again slowly as she rubbed over him and he felt himself groan and twitch.

He moaned, too, and ran both hands along the silken length of her, cupping her ass with his hands and pulling up gently.

Moaning softly, and with little twitches and hitchings of her hips, she slowly worked and shifted until there was a sudden moist heat and wetness surrounding him, and they both gasped.

She sighed and relaxed against him, making little lip smacking noises and burrowed her head into the hollow of his throat, never quite, he was sure, waking up. Her hips began to undulate slowly, working herself up and down along his length, her breath and his hitching in her throat.

Slowly, he lost track of whether he was awake or not, losing himself in silken sensation and little gasping sounds from her movements. The little gasps became guttural, sensual, sleepy sounding moans, and the rhythmic movings and strokings came slowly faster... and the little moans became soft, hungry sounding cries.

Until, minutes, or days, or hours later, there came a slow detonation that built somewhere in the back of his hind-brain and flowed down along his body until it exploded somewhere out of the end of him where he'd long ago lost track of where he stopped, and she began.

And then darkness swallowed him up along with his orgasm, and he no longer was.

No longer awake, no longer thinking, and just... no longer.

* * *

Giles had, after a bit of properly British exasperation, resigned himself to the mystery of Faith's unexplained presence for the moment. He removed his glasses and began polishing them in a timeless Giles mannerism.

"Actually, this does work out to be rather serendipitous, Faith," he said, finally.

Faith frowned slowly, her eyebrows drawing down and together. "Like I told Cordy, G: reformed, not a doormat."

Giles blinked at her, nonplussed for a moment. After a moment that he obviously spent rolling the past moments of conversation around in his mind, he smiled slightly and shook his head, looking rueful. "I- I- ah... that is," he started.

"Serendipity, Faith," Jonathan said. "Means like, uh... when you dig for worms and hit oil instead."

Faith turned the slight scowl on him for a few moments, then brightened slowly, and nodded. "Ok. Yeah, like getting junk mail and it turns out to be Ed McMahon."

"Uh huh." Jonathan grinned at her.

"So, you mean you'd wanted to see me, just not here, right?"

"Right," Giles said, nodding. "I had planned to make a quick visit to Stockton after seeing Cordelia and Xander here, as soon as I could make the arrangements. This saves me the trouble and difficulty."

"About... ?" Faith cocked her head at him, her expression curious. "'Cause, like, no offense, but the _only_ one of you guys I've heard from since I went in has been Harris there, and him just in letters."

Giles flushed slightly and looked away briefly, polishing a bit more rapidly. Xander didn't think the comment was quite fair, really, but he couldn't help but get a slight jolt of satisfaction at seeing Giles discomfited by Faith's bluntness.

"Well, ah," Giles looked back, meeting her eyes after replacing his now truly spotless glasses. He sighed, "I didn't really believe we had much to talk about, the two of us, for a long while, I'm afraid."

"Oh? Do tell," Faith said, propping her chin in the palm of one hand, that propped on an upraised knee as she regarded him steadily.

"Faith." Cordelia said, shaking her head slightly.

Faith glanced sidelong at her and flipped a hand up in acquiescence. But her expression said the subject wasn't dropped, only postponed...

"Ah, err," Giles said again, sighing. He shook his head slightly, and then apparently decided to forge onward. "Were you by any chance aware that Buffy flat-lined on the operating table recently after Warren shot her?" he asked.

"Yeah. Something was said about that earlier tonight." Faith glanced to Cordelia and got a nod of confirmation.

"Ah. Well, was it also mentioned that a new Slayer was Called, by any chance?"

"No... " Faith said, thoughtfully. She shrugged. "Lucky girl to be blessed with the suck. And, so?"

"Maybe fortunate you're out, suddenly," Oz said. He seemed to be inspecting the cuticles on one upraised hand carefully, or possibly examining the purple nails on the fingers of that hand for signs of chipping and wear. Maybe.

He raised his eyes to Faith's, along with an eyebrow. "Moving target, and all."

Faith's eyes widened slightly, and then narrowed as her head snapped around to focus on Giles with laser intensity.

"No. That is _not_ an option that was on the table to be considered," Giles said, very quietly. "I can assure you. And no one sane would ask me to carry such a thing out," he said, his voice gone even softer. "Nor any field Watcher worthy of the name."

"I remember Buffy's Crucim- Curcia, that evil test thing, Giles," Cordelia said, softly, with a bit of laser beam intense regard of her own. "I drove her home, remember?"

"No." He lifted a hand, "Yes, I do recall, and, no," he said. "The Reformationist branch of the Council has been adamant on that subject since Faith's self imposed incarceration, and with Quentin Travers' support and agreement. Especially since that... _debacle_ in Los Angeles sponsored by the Traditionalist Factions."

"Kinda surprised," Faith said. "I seem to remember being shot at with automatic weapons. Me and Buffy."

Giles shrugged, started to say something, visibly reconsidered, and shrugged again. "Did it ever occur to you to wonder why you were not simply... put to sleep during your coma?"

"Hrmm." Faith looked nonplussed for a moment. "Guess not," she said. "Would have been the easiest way."

"Quite." Giles agreed, softly. "Travers held out against the Traditionalists led by Roger Wyndam-Pryce on that, rather surprisingly, perhaps, stating that it was not the business of the Council to kill Slayers. It was our business to support and reclaim them if possible."

"Amazing," Cordelia said. Faith nodded her agreement.

"Yeah. I been just smothered in support ever since Diana was killed. I get all choked up about it sometimes, what with the warm fuzzies and all." Faith's tone could dehydrate dry ice.

Giles flushed again and removed his glasses to polish again. Xander grinned, earning himself a reproving look.

"Hey," Xander spread his hands. "My girl's got a point, she's got a point."

That earned him a sharper look. "Your girl? I had thought that you and- "

"Cordelia? Yeah, are, will be, is, forever and a day or so, yata yata," Xander said. "And, so? Faith's one of my girls now. Always has been, really."

"Just took me awhile to catch on," Faith said.

"We noticed a long time ago that you're slow, sometimes," Oz said, smiling slightly.

Faith shot him a sharp, sidelong glance, followed by a dimpling smile when she caught the expression and the twinkle in the green eyes. "Yup. Remedial learner, that's me."

"That's ok," Cordelia said, her tone light. "We have intensive seminars for the short bus students."

That got another dimpled smile. "I noticed."

"Harrumph," Giles cleared his throat. "Be that as, er, it may," he was obviously floundering in the currents of subtext and sinking fast, with no life preserver. "You apparently were _not_ aware that no Slayer was Called after Buffy's death at the hand of Glorificus last May?"

"No." That got the laser intense scrutiny again. "Was not."

"Yes. Apparently, the Slayer line shifted to run through Kendra after Buffy's first death, and then you following Kendra's," Giles said.

"Do tell," Faith said, quietly, obviously stunned and just as obviously fighting to keep it behind a blank expression. She looked at Cordelia, frowning. "Don't remember your telling me this? Did you?"

"I- I- ah... " Cordelia frowned. "Don't remember?" She threw up her hands. "We got kinda busy."

"We did that thing." Faith's lips quirked in a slight smile. "'S'all right, Cordy," she said, "I forgive you. So... " she riveted Giles again. "Something gone kerblooey, huh?"

"Ah. Yes, to put it bluntly," he said, nodding. "And we have no idea what."

"Uh, Giles?" Xander raised a hand, and shot an apologetic look at Faith. "Don't mean to step on things of vital Slayer importance, but you had something for Cordy? I, mean, I know it's still early, but we had a long day and Cordy and I are fading, like, fast."

"And Giles looks like he rode in on the outside of the plane, himself," Cordelia said.

"But he's British," Oz put in. "The stiff upper lip keeps him propped upright." That provoked laughter all around, a bit of it slightly hysteria tinged from the fatigue toxin victims.

"Well, yes, that does have its advantages," Giles said. He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply and letting it out. "I am deeply sorry, Cordelia."

"No big." She waved it off. "We're all a bit punchy."

"Yeah. Consider it tabled for later," Faith said.

"Yeah." Cordelia frowned. "Ok, so I know about the Scrolls of Azbergerji or whatever. That Vocah demon used them to send my visions into overdrive, and Wesley to cure it. With the Shitzu prophecy about Angel. And the others... that Nyazian thing were those prophecy scrolls Wesley mistranslated that said that Angel would kill his son?" Her frown deepened, and she said, "And the... Torklan, isn't that a mystical conjunction thing?"

"Yes, ah... " Giles looked nonplussed again. "Ah, yes. Sort of." He tapped one of the eldritch volumes, and said, "The Scrolls of Aberjian are a selection from a part of a much larger work, much of it also concerned with the, err, Enspirited Daemon – what most who have studied them believe to be Angelus, the Souled Vampire. And a being associated with him known as 'The One Who Sees.'"

"Angel," Faith said, softly. "He goes by Angel now. Angelus is the other one."

Cordelia jerked at Giles' words, her eyes narrowing. She exchanged glances with Xander.

"Ah, quite," Giles said, with a nod to Faith. "I have my differences with Angel... " he cleared his throat, "However, they are neither here nor there. The Book of Aberjian contains a number of chronicles, a much larger set of prophecies concerning the Shan-shu, and a number of revelations surrounding the End Days and the Enspirited One and his Seer and their roles therein."

"I've given this a lot of thought, and I've come to the conclusion that, Prophecies? Never a good thing," Xander said. "Fact, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that I'm against them."

Cordelia, Faith, and Oz all looked at him, snickering.

"Seems the news flash went out ahead of you, Ace," Faith said. "According to Green Guy, that's not 'zactly a well hidden secret."

"Yes, I am well aware of your rather cavalier disregard for prophecy and fate, Xander," Giles said, smiling.

"So, this Shan-shu... that means Angel will live again, after a whole bunch of trials and stuff?" Cordelia asked, frowning again.

"No. Or, perhaps, yes," Giles said. He got several wry expressions, and colored slightly. "It's rather... complicated."

"It always is," Cordelia said, her expression sour. "I'd just once love to get a clear cut and simple Prophecy in, like, plain English."

"Vote we table that one and call a Scooby meeting for, tomo- err, tonight," Xander said. "At the Magic Box, since Faith's persons non gratis at Buffys."

There were ayes all around, and Giles nodded. "All right. And the Nyazian Chronicles are also a larger work containing the scrolls of the Nyazian Prophecy, which concerns the child of two Night Walkers – vampires – and the coming of a harbinger of destruction known only as 'The Beast', and a rather ill defined entity that shall follow him."

"And lo, a great darkness will fall, the dead will rise, and there will be terrible upheavals followed by cataclysm and the end of all things," Oz said, his voice arid. He smiled, spreading his hands. "Seemed to be the way these things go."

"Yes," Giles said, nodding and matching Oz's slight smile with a tight one of his own. "We do seem to end up here rather a lot, do we not?"

"Angel has a son by Darla," Cordelia said, softly, her eyes wide. Xander took her hand in his own and she gripped his back fiercely.

"Oh. Oh my," Giles said. he removed his glasses again, peering at her.

"Behold, a pale horse," Jonathan murmured.

"And let me guess," Xander said, his voice equally as soft as Cordelia's. "The 'One Who Sees' brings about the coming of the One Who Follows." He kept his gaze carefully off of his wife's, locking eyes with Giles. "From Within You It Devours."

"Crap. Rosemary's freaking _baby_?" Cordelia's voice rose almost to a wail on the last. "I have so _had_ it with demonic pregnancies!"

* * *

His second waking was slower than the first, as for some reason, his brain felt as melted as his body.

Awareness and then something that might be sentience came back to him slowly, followed sometime after by what might have been thought.

And memories...

Flashes and bits and pieces of memory from the night before.

– Seeing Giles out, and surprising and discomfiting the older man by suddenly pulling him into a tight, fierce, awkward hug, and whispering, "I am so glad you're here, man." Discomfiting for Giles, anyway.

Fuck 'im. World needs more hugs. And the people you love damned well need to know about it...

– Coming back in and giving Cordy one also, long and tight and fierce. No need to worry that she'd break in your arms, he thought. Substantial girl, in all the ways that count. She gripped him back like she wanted to submerge into him...

– Telling Cordelia – asking, really, with his eyes – to bear with him, that he needed to do something with Faith. And getting a wry smile and a nod...

Permission and forgiveness all in one.

– Walking up to an unsuspecting Faith and taking her hands in his own, startling her. Startling her more by leaning in, slowly and carefully, and kissing her.

Deeply, slowly, and with excruciating gentleness and intensity. Pulling back and away equally slowly. And pulled her head back gently to kiss her on the forehead as they parted.

Seeing Faith's eyes open with a kind of a slow wonder, and one hand going to her lips, and her visibly shuddering with a full body shiver.

"Better watch that," she said, finally, her voice husky and hoarse. "I've been in prison. And your wife'll kill me if I rip your clothes off right now."

"So," he said, his lips quirking up into a half smile. "Take Jonno and drag him into your lair later and have your wicked way with him. Or Oz."

"Might do that." Faith looked an inquiry at him.

"I am so very, very sorry, Faith."

A blink at that, long and slow. Faith shook her head, looking as if she might want to wiggle a finger in her ear.

"Can't be hearing that. Why, for gods-sake?"

"For being an idiot. For not being what you needed, when you needed. For being eighteen, horny, and stupid. For not trying to be a friend until it was too late."

"Wouldn't have helped," Faith said, her eyes bleak and disbelieving. "And I tried to _kill_ you, you fucking _moron!_ _You_ don't _have_ anything to be _sorry_ for!"

He shrugged. "Join the fucking club, Faith. It doesn't have an exclusive membership at this point – every woman I know except Oz has tried to kill me at least once, and _he_ punched me in the mouth."

Oz nodded. "Did that thing." (beat) "And I'm not a woman."

"The nail polish confuses me, deeply."

Faith shook her head, looking suddenly furious. "You. Don't. Have. Anything. To. Be. Sorry. For. I do, dammit."

"Me me me, that's all you women are all about," Xander said, leaning back before she could even think about swatting him. Or punching, considering it was Faith. He heard Cordelia snicker behind him. "Let's do this, then. We forgive each other. And we move on."

Faith froze, considering it. She smiled slowly, nodded. "We could do that thing."

"And _you_ forgive you."

"Uh... " she went into brain lock again. "That's gonna be a lot harder."

"Always is."

She nodded, then a slow smile spread across those cupid bow lips. She rubbed at her forehead with her sleeve.

"And what the _hell_ kind of a kiss is on the _forehead_, for chrissakes?"

"He has a fetish," Cordelia said, coming up to slip an arm around his waist.

"Couldn't he have one for PVC and crotchless undies like a normal guy?"

"Nah," Xander said. "Star Trek uniforms and crotchless Vulcans."

Flashes and bits and pieces of memory from the night before...

Mostly pornographic, but not all.

– Holding Cordelia tightly in the circle of his arms as deep, wracking sobs shook her body and she ground her face into the hollow of his neck, harsh noises coming from her. Murmuring things that meant nothing and everything and stroking her hair and her back, until at long last, the storm blew out to sea...

– Drifting off and waking again, to an indescribable sensation to see Cordelia's wicked, Cheshire cat grin over the head of his cock. And a hot wetness that arched him back and turned him inside out as she engulfed him again. Pressure building until he screamed out and exploded, his hand pulling her head in until her nose was buried in his pubic hair – her mouth and throat working frantically until she coughed and pushed back, the working of her tongue, lips, and mouth never slowing...

– Cordelia above him later, her hips undulating and those incredible breasts bobbing invitingly. And a soft, white glow surrounding her and flowing over and into them both. Lost to sensation and need as he ceased to know or understand or care where he left off and she began. If there _was_ a leaving and a beginning, even...

– Moving into her from behind, slow and gentle at first, and then with increasing force and rapidity, her hips working and pushing that incredible ass back against him. Her face down on the covers with one hand grasping the sheets, and the other fingers clenched in his. Making sensual, guttural sounds deep inside of her that might have been agony in any other situation, and wasn't...

– Cordelia on her back with her legs silken along his rib cage, black nylon clad heels hooked over his shoulders as he moved within her. Her mouth hard and hot against his, murmuring things that would have been obscene in any other situation, any other framework, and weren't...

–- Those gorgeous tits wrapped around the length of him, her hands pressing them together as his hips moved, her moving in counterpoint. Until a hard, gasping clenching took him and he exploded. All over her lips and mouth and throat and breasts – both of them laughing themselves sick as she wiped an errant spray from one eyelid...

And holding her close, later, as they lay spent, whispering over and over again, fiercely, that he loved her, had always loved her, and was never ever letting go. And her whispering back just as fiercely that she knew, she knew...

* * *

Drifting away, falling endlessly, until he came to himself abruptly...

Seated in a small outdoor patio at a cafe he recognized from his road trip, in Santa Fe, with an Americano in his hand and a plate of hot, spicy and crisp fresh fried quesadillas in front of him.

Seated across from him, drinking a frosty mug of something that might be Guinness, was a slender, dark haired man with a quirky grin and the most incredible blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"You, I don't recognize," Xander remarked. "What part of my brain do you represent?"

"Ah," the man said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He took a long draught of his beer, and smacked his lips in appreciation. "Not like that. It's Doyle I'm being."

Xander blinked, and took a sip of his Americano to cover it. "Ok, so. Who are you being when you're not a Doyle?"

The man threw back his head, laughing. A sound of pure delight, and so infectious that he couldn't help grinning and laughing along, though he hadn't the slightest idea why or what he was laughing with.

Or at.

"No. Doyle," he said, putting a hand out across the small table. Xander shook it, smiling back at him. "Alan Francis Doyle. And you're being a Xander Harris, I'm thinking."

"You're thinking right. At least when I'm not being a dumb ass."

"And then you're still being a Xander Harris, I'm betting."

"You might be right, at that," Xander said. He frowned slowly, and suddenly aimed a finger across the table. "Doyle! Cordy's Doyle!"

"Yep. That'd be me."

"I'm not giving her back. And I won't fight you for her," Xander said. "I won her, fair and square."

Doyle threw his head back, laughing again. He put his hands out, palms out in surrender. "No, no. Not asking, albeit she's neither of ours ta be giving. I have lousy relationship prospects, anyway, me being dead and all." He cocked his head, adding, "Not that they were all that good when I was living."

Xander shrugged, somewhat mollified. "It's like that, sometimes."

"It is that." Doyle studied him, and smiled crookedly. "I'm wondering if she'd of come in after me, like she did for you."

"She would have," Xander said without hesitation. "She loved you, idiot. Damned near killed her when you killed yourself."

"I'm thinking she picked well with you, our Cordy." Doyle said. "Better than Angel, anyway."

Xander snorted, not even bothering to comment. And then he did.

"Angel, not my favorite person," Xander said. "But since we have a Cordy between us, we're working on it."

"Yeah," Doyle said. "Love the man to death, but he's a walking disaster area for the ladies, he is."

"It's the hair gel, and the swishy coat," Xander said. He studied the other man, curiously. A few inches to a hand shy of his own six feet, and slender. Dressed in a leather jacket, gray cargo pants, and a loud Hawaiian shirt of blue and white and yellow. He was struck again that he'd probably like this man if they'd met while alive.

Well, except for the Cordelia thing...

"She didn't do too bad with you, either," Xander said, grudgingly. "Could have done worse."

"Pshaw. You'll be turning my head," Doyle said.

"Hey, calls 'em like I sees 'em," Xander said, waggling his eyebrows. "You're a foine figger of a man."

"It's not that that I'm doubting," Doyle said. "It's not swinging that way I'm a being."

"Heh. As Willow would say, oh shucky darns. As I would say," (beat) "My god, what a relief."

"Damn." Doyle snapped his fingers. "Should have called ye on it just to see ya freak out."

"I'd blush."

They grinned at each other for a minute, Xander reflecting on what a relief it was to finally be secure enough in who he was, and his own sexuality, to joke around like that. Maybe that whole integration thing had something going for it. Something _other_ than generating enough nightmare fuel to make him a fetish fuel station on the Dreamways.

"So, dead," Xander said, rolling the word in his mouth to try the taste. "You like a White Lighter now, or something?"

"Hah. Something like," Doyle said. "I'm, well, I guess you could call me an agent for the Powers that Be."

Xander's face froze, along with his smile. And then his eyes. He stood slowly, tossing a few bucks onto the table as he pushed his chair back.

"Enjoy your beer," he said. "Because we have a Cordy between us, I won't kill you where you sit. Laters."

"Whoa, easy now," Doyle said, putting his hands up in surrender again. "It's a major misunderstanding I'm thinking we have."

"What we have here," Xander said, slowly and distinctly, "Is _not_ a failure to communicate. Unless you try to stop me from leaving."

Xander's smile slid slowly across his lips, and quirked up at one side. "And then we'll communicate real well. Briefly."

"Sit." Doyle said, his eyes suddenly hard and just as cold as Xander's felt. "Please."

It was the please that got him, Xander always figured, later on.

He pulled his chair back up and sat, slowly. "You have a limited amount of time and words. Use them well."

"You might actually be able to take one of us down," Doyle said, a kind of wonder to his voice. He cocked his head, studying Xander anew. "You have the potential. And the intent."

"I have _intent_ coming out of my ass right now. Time's wasting."

Doyle nodded, taking another draught from his Guinness.

"I'm not being any happier about this whole situation than you are, I'll be having you know," he said, "and it's intending to do something about it I am."

"It's my fullest and _complete_ attention you'll be having now, it is," Xander said. He sat down slowly, still glaring at the other man. Being. Whatever.

* * *

Xander came aware after a time that his wife was laid out on top of him, body matched point to point against his, stomach to stomach and chest to chest, gazing down at him. Smiling.

His wife. His _wife_, Cordelia Chase. And, Cordelia Chase, _his_ wife. Man. That was just not ever going to get old.

There might just be better ways to wake up, he thought. But he wasn't aware of any that fit the bill...

"Umm." Cordelia stretched herself along the length of him, smiling down into his eyes as they opened.

"Hi there," he blinked up at her, lazily and sleepily. "And, umm?"

"Such a _strange_ dream I had," she said, nodding. She leaned her head forward until their foreheads touched, both of their eyes crossing as they looked into each other.

"Ah." Xander nodded, her head bobbing with his motion. "Me too."

She leaned back enough to focus on him, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah," Xander shook his head, smiling. "Later, maybe. Not really important right now." She nodded, smiling, and he slid his hands along her sides from the curve of her buttocks up to her shoulder blades, then into her hair to pull her lips down to his.

"Uhngh," she said, breaking away after a long minute. "No, don't get started again. I _have_ to pee."

"Sigh. Such a romantic."

"Jerk."

"Your jerk."

"I'm sadly aware."

She pushed her self up on her hands, with obvious reluctance, and rolled off of him, sliding off the bed to stand beside it. She stretched like a cat, smiling her enjoyment of the appreciative look he gave her.

"Gods." Xander shook his head. "That is such an erotic outfit, Mrs. Harris."

"This old thing?" Cordelia grinned, twirling slowly in place. "What – black lace topped nylons and a smile?"

"And stiff nipples," he said, agreeing.

"Must be cold in here."

"Must be."

He watched lazily as she headed toward the master bath, calling out as she opened the door. "And don't take all morning – I have to go, too. Right after you."

"Well, since I am _so_ not into water sports, I'll keep that in mind."

_'Hate to see her go, but I love to watch her walk away,' _Still Small said.

Don't you know it, bud.

After a bit, drained and splashed and brushed and all minty fresh, they stood by the bed. She raised her hands, fingers spread, and he interlaced his with hers, pulling her hands down and behind her to pull her in close. The kiss was long, and achingly slow.

He rubbed his nose against hers, and grinned when she wrinkled hers up in the way she always used to when he did that.

"Freaking Eskimo kisses."

He kissed her again, the regular way. "I am deeply and irrevocably in love with you, Mrs. Chase-Harris."

"I know," she said. "I think I might be deeply and irretrievably in love with you, too, Mr. Harris-Chase."

"You think?" He kissed her again. "Might be?"

"Hrmm." She stood on tip-toe to kiss him back, and leaned back looking contemplative. "One more of those, and I might be almost certain of it."

"Think we can manage that." They moved to the bed, still kissing.

"We really need to come out eventually," Cordelia said, pulling away finally. "We have guests."

"They can forage like the rest of the varmints. There's mice if they get too hungry."

She stared at him, then shook her head, snickering helplessly. "You are _so_... " she broke off, apparently giving up on defining exactly _what_ he was _so_.

"Outrageously horny?" He suggested.

She tapped her nose and pointed at him. She grinned. "Damn. You remember that day on the beach, way back when we were, like, thirteen, fourteen? And we both got stood up together?"

"Never forgot it," he said. "That tiny leopard patterned bikini is burned into my brain forever." Xander smiled, his eyes going distant. "And the girl inside the wrapper. And the lei."

She nodded, grinning. "And the almost lay." She lay back against the bed, pulling him down next to her. "You will never ever _know_ how close I came to dragging you home that night and telling Mother where she could stick her 'right kind of friends' crap."

"Like you did Harmony? Woulda been a sight to see," he said, laughing. "And, almost wish you had," he said. "Instead, we were back to hating each other a couple of days later."

"I never hated you, not really," Cordelia said. "Not until after the re-bar, and even then... "

"Pain and anger and sad and betrayed, all rolled up together," he said, nodding. "Me too." Xander smiled, looking wistful, "I still have all of the photos from that day, of that bikini. And that girl."

"Yeah." She looked up at him, seriously. "Would it have worked?"

"If you had?" He thought about it, giving it all worthwhile consideration. "Nah. Not then. Not for long."

"Yeah." She nodded, smiling wistfully also. "We'd probably have screwed it all up even worse."

"And it'd have killed me when we did. Or I did," Xander said. "Think we had to go all the way to get here."

"No maps, long empty stretches, sudden curves, and near fatal collisions and all?"

"And dangerous hairpin curves," he said. He ran a finger along her arm, and down along the curve of her hip and across her thigh, until he ran out of reach. "But man, what scenery along the way."

"Sap."

Xander reached out and rolled her onto her stomach, lying with her head pillowed on her folded arms. Began laying a line of kisses along her upper arm, over her shoulder, and slowly down the length of her back to the hollow before the swell of her ass. Along the backs of her thighs and calves. And back up again...

"If you keep doing that, I may scream."

"I want you to scream... "

At some point later, her laying flat out on the bed, stomach down, legs spread, and him moving inside of her, he moved a bit too energetically and slipped out. And she moved her hips and he accidentally slipped back in a bit higher than the mark, slick and lubricated with Cordelia Chase... up to about a third of his length before she gasped, stiffened and tightened up, and he froze.

She hissed deep in her throat, and growled. "Oh, god. I've _never_ done this before."

He stopped and began to slide back, gently.

"Oh god. Don't - "

He froze again, unsure of where to move. Or if. No means no. Not maybe.

"Don't you dare stop. Or move." She let out a shuddering gasp. "J-just... let me wrap myself around this concept first." (beat) "S-so to s-sp-speak."

"You get any more wrapped around it, and I may not be able to stand it."

She laughed, almost a gasp, and then shuddered all over. He waited for a sign or a word to stop that never came. After awhile, he moved gently, sliding forward slowly until he was buried to the root against her ass, inside of her ass, and held there.

Cordelia gasped again, her head arching back with her mouth open, hands fisting in the covers. Then her head slowly slumped forward, and she shuddered all over, outside and in.

"G-g-gods. _That's_ a f-first. Wow." She began to move back against him, her hips slowly and rhythmically grinding herself into him.

"Well," Xander said, twitching his hips and eliciting a high pitched squeak and another shuddering gasp, "I always dreamed of boldly going where no man has cum before."

Damned brain to mouth filter...

She gasped, almost convulsing. After which, she started making the strangest, quietest, most godawful breathless strangled sounds, one hand clenched into a fist and held to her mouth. Xander nearly pulled back and out, alarmed.

Then he realized she was laughing so hard she wasn't making any real sound; so hard her entire body was shaking against and around him.

Gasp. "Gods, Xander," Cordelia finally managed to choke out, "_Dork_. You are _such_ an asshole."

He laughed, twitching his hips again. "So are you, Miss Chase," he said, snickering, "And such a _tight_ one, too." He leaned forward and kissed the join of her shoulder and neck, twitching again...

Gasp. "I don't know why I put up with you, you you... un_believ_able _schmuck_," she said, laughing.

He moved, fore and back slightly, and after a minute of incoherent noises, she managed to gasp out, "Oh. _That's_ why."

"I knew there _had_ to be some reason," Xander said, laughing along with her.

He moved again, and when she could breathe without making squeaking sounds, Cordelia turned her head, looking back over her shoulder at him.

"Well?" she raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to, like, _do_ anything with this compromising position? Or just prop yourself up back there like a thick lump?"

"oh... " he said. "I think my thick lump can figure out _something_ entertaining to do."

He did.

Definitely entertaining, quite so, for awhile yet to come.

So to speak.

* * *

.

_**~ The END ~**_

**(For now.)**

* * *

.

_**And, moving right along...**_

_To be continued in:_

"**And One _More_ Thing I Hate About You!"**

**Book II: A Crazy Little Thing Called Love**

* * *

.

**Afterword and Additional Credits and Disclaimers: That Stuff at the Back**

**.**

"_Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of__ – __but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards.__"_ ― Lazarus Long

.

Cool. You made it to the end.

Well, those of you that made it, anyway. I see a few new faces in the crowd here, and some of those who started out with me, seem to have dropped by the wayside.

Heh. Hope they just got bored and hit [back]. I'd hate to think they were eaten by a Grue. Or a Groo.

Ok. Fust things fustest.

Sorry about the seriously long delay in posting, those few of y'all who've dropped notes in reviews on my other stuff asking when and even if there'd ever be updates.

Yes. There will be.

See, long about the end of, oh, 2008, my roomie got medical issues and had to quit driving a truck. Cut the household income in half. Then I got laid off, more or less. (Place I was contracting with dropped its contractors. Other place cut all of us to $200 worth of billable a month. Ouch.)

And, so, long about early 2009, I found myself at the very bottom of my bank account with practically zero income and about thirty bucks in savings and ten in checking... which didn't please the landlord, as he'd been patient about as long as he was a gonna.

So. Long and short, no income, no job, no prospects, and soonest, no home.

And no computer of my own. I found it's hard to maintain a PC when you're homeless.

But– that passed. Three years later, and I managed to first, get an apartment and a roof again, and then a PC of my very own. No '_net_ connection yet, but hey – Public Library has one, and so does a friend of mine.

So. Isa back! Didja miss me? ;)

And I'm writing again. Obviously. Heh – 180,000 plus words in six weeks. I'd _better_ be writing again, or my computer is haunted by a _really_ prolific ghost. (Rap rap. Hey, Dennis – you in there? Bob? You browsing porn again?)

I'd say it only goes up from here, but I have Sunnydale Syndrome and I don't like tempting the gods.

And so: welcome to the end of "And Another Thing I Hate About You!" Glad you made it. Hell, glad I made it.

Hope you enjoyed it at least as much as I did.

At some point, I will get back to the Road-verse (Oh the people she knows). I have, like, enough stuff outlined to keep me writing there until shortly after my untimely demise, and then beyond. (Hey, I plan to ghost write afterwards. Don't you?)

And Richard and I will get back to the Nightwatchmen. Again, hey – I have outlines and notes for all the way up through and past the end of Night-watch Season Seven. I may not _live_ long enough to write them all...

And I also have just a _ton_ of crap that gelled inside of my head while I had no access to a computer and no way to get it out. So there may be a lot of digressions outside of those two series as I work some of those out into electrons...

.

Ok. Now, before a mod gets me or karma or something bites me in the ass, some important shite about the story you just read...

Like, additional **credits and disclaimers:**

For those of you who didn't catch it and note it in comments, Jess Corey and and S&C Construction are from a 1970's men's action and adventure novel called "_**Corey's Losers**_", by John Whitlatch. They belong to him (and his estate) and to Pocket Books.

Hey – toldja it was obscure. Ya think I was lying? I needed a construction company for Xander to work for, so I did what any self respecting fan-fiction author does. I damned well stole one.

I'm pretty sure that _**Las Vegas **_exists in real life and it belongs to the US Gubbermint and the Mob. I have no idea if the "Elvish-fucking-Presley All-shook-up Drive Through Wedding Chapel and International House of fucking Pancakes" exists in real life or not. It _should_, though.

_**Harry Dresden **_and the _**Dresden-verse **_and "_**the Never Never**_" belong to Jim Butcher, ROC, and Penguin Books, and is/are used without permission. Xander's wise ass subconscious and the conversations he has with Alex while knocked cold are also inspired by Jim. As are a _lot_ of the other concepts used here.

_**The Dreamlands **_and their denizens and guardians belong variously to the authors of the _**Cthulhu**__** Mythos**_, primarily/including Brian Lumley and many others. I flat out stole 'em as a concept cuz they is nifty.

_**The Sea of dreams **_belongs to Jack L. Chalker from one of his many series, the "Dancing Gods" Trilogy. Again, I liked the concept and it fit.

_**The Ghost Roads **_came from the "Gatekeeper Trilogy" (a Buffy-verse Expanded Universe trilogy) by Christopher Golden, Nancy Holder, and Pocket Books. Again: Concept. Liked. Horse. Stolen. Barn Door. Locked. Deal.

_**The Dreamways **_themselves are mine, but the concept isn't original to me, by any means. They're an amalgamation of stuff absorbed into my warped mind over the decades.

The "_**Knight of Ghosts and Shadows**_" title that Cordelia bestowed upon Xander when they were six comes from a line in Mercedes Lackey's Bardic Trilogy. It fits, and fits lots better than the "White Knight" crap Angelus stuck on him.

I don't think any of these really qualify as a crossover, despite my borrowing so heavily from the universes, because they're either so obscure, or so oblique.

_**Pinky and the Brain **_belong to Warner Brothers and Animaniacs. I don't think I used any actual Brainisms; I made up my own for Faith and Cordy, but, hey – cred where credit is due anyway.

The idea of a journey into your own mind's eye – or someone else's – as a means to a journey of self knowledge is too universal to belong to anyone. Its kind of an archetypal concept. Call it the Shaman's Journey, and move on.

_**The World as Myth **_concept comes from the immortal Robert Heinlein and "Number of the Beast" and other works of his.

_**The Hero of a Thousand Faces **_and the _**Hero's Journey**_ concept comes from Joseph Campbell, as noted in the text. It just seems like something a geek like Xander might have read...

Songs and song lyrics used in various places within the text are:

"_**Don't Stop Me Now**_" by Queen and Freddy Mercury

"_**All Star**_" by Smashmouth

"_**On a Hot Summer Night**_/_**Took the Words Right Outta My Mouth**_" by Meatloaf (Daniel Aday) and the immortal Jim Steinman

"_**Red Light Love**_" by Those Darlins'

"_**Sugar Sugar**_" by the Archies

"_**Red Rubber Ball**_" by the Cyrkle

"_**Poison**_" by Alice Cooper

"_**Songwriter**_" by the Good Rats

The closing song lyrics are from "**Crying**" by Aerosmith, a sardonic, raucous, lovely little metal song that just seemed to me to fit this story and the pairing so, so well.

A full list of attributions for the various song lyrics, titles, and other stuff I warped and twisted for my chapter titles appears below in the scrolling end credits. Attributions for chapter quotes and header quotes are at the end of the quotation.

Anya's little joke in "_**It's the End of My World As I Know It (And the hell was that noise... ?)**_" aka Chapter Twenty-one, was inspired by something that someone said, wrote, typed at me in an email or ICQ text, or I heard or saw someplace. Possibly Caine...

And I really liked it, filed off the serial numbers, and it inspired my own version of the joke...

Becuz it's such an _Anya_ thing to do, yanno?

Sorry. Have _no_ idea where the inspiration came from, so I can't attribute it better. But it was cherce.

And yes, for those who were wondering: the Faith in the First Interlude dream sequence _is_ Faith from the Nightwatchmen universe. Everyone who figured that out from the clues, award yourself one free No Prize from petty cash.

And, last but not least, all of the _**Buffy and Angel dialogue quotes**_ came out of the episode transcripts at Buffyworld . com. WB, Mutant Enemy, and Kazui have zero responsibility (or blame) for anything I've done with 'em.

All of the little Cordelia/Xander interaction vignettes were either inspired by comments made in canon that I ran with (Hey, they never did explain the Barbie incident or how the Yellow Crayon got broke), or I made them up from whole cloth because they fit the characters so well. Mostly based off of my interactions over the years with female childhood friends, sweethearts, enemies, and frenemies like Cordy.

Ghani came about because that just seemed like the kind of dog a little Cordy would have. And I like Afghan Hounds. So, neener.

All of the little "Still Small Voice" and "Still Quiet Voice" interactions were pulled out of my ass because they amused me.

.

I just flat _like_ the Xander/Cordelia pairing. Obviously. They just _click_ and they work so well together, both on screen and as characters to write. Plus, they're the closest I got to seeing what I consider a real life couple onscreen during the Buffy years. I knew couples like Xan and Cordy in high school.

Hell, at certain points, I _was_ couples like Xan and Cordy in high school and my early twenties. I dated and was friends with a couple of girls like Cordelia Chase, and got along fine with 'em. (For certain values of "got along with"). And Xander at various points could have been my own viewer identification character at some points in my life...

Some of the worst writing moments and character derailments in BtVS and AtS, to my mind, were variously:

– Breaking up Cordelia and Xander to shuffle her character over to Angel's new series. Not that he and Cordy _wouldn't_ have broken up... it's just the way the whole thing was written and handled made it hard for me to see it. I didn't buy the Fluke, didn't buy the way it was written – and didn't buy the way it was dropped as soon as it served its purpose.

Cheap plot devices inserted only to serve a metastory purpose – in this case, freeing up Charisma Carpenter so she could migrate over to where she could be screwed over on Angel the Series – just don't do it for me, sorry. And yes I am unhappy with the way that CC and her character, Cordelia, were treated on that show. Go figger.

– Cordelia falling in love with Angel and deciding to go for a relationship after seeing the whole Angel/Buffy thing and knowing about the soul curse. Hey, c'mon now. _Cordelia Chase_. Have you guys _met_? Cordelia doesn't _settle_ for a guy who can't and wouldn't experience perfect happiness just from being with her. Not happening.

– The whole forced Ascension and used up by Jasmine and dropped into a mystical coma and killed – while the PTB supposedly stood by and did nothing. Uh... and Cordelia just overlooked all that and elected to stay a Higher Being and do the Power's dirty work after.

Uh. Again: Hello – _Cordelia Chase_. Have you guys _met_? _Cordelia_ would rip someone's _lungs_ out for doing that/allowing that while they stood by with their thumbs up their butts, and then having the gall to ask her to _work_ for them after. Sheesh.

No freaking way. That just flat out was _not_ Cordelia in "You're Welcome." No way in hell, no how. And she's just _flat_ not gonna wander the multi-verse helping bend over other people without lube for the PTB's purposes after, no matter what kind of great fanfic has come out of it. No way.

Don't get me started on the sleeping with Connor thing...

_My_ Xander and Cordy got back together after "Hell's Bells". Or else Cordy de-Ascended herself and went to Africa for his lamer ass at some point following "Chosen" while that thing wearing her face was wandering around W&H and screwing over Angel one last time.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Them. Whatever.

There's a million stories in the naked brain of Ironbear, and if we're lucky, you'll get to see a few more of 'em. Eww.

Apologies to anyone who liked crazy Wesley in later seasons of Angel. I done kilt him in Xander's mind, and I don't apologize for it. (Don't worry: real world and fictional world Wesley are fine. Drunk and psychotic, but fine.)

.

'K. So... as always, reviews will be appreciated, whether the reviewer liked it or hated it. Con-crit will be greatly appreciated, possibly argued with in comments and email/PM, and I may even use it for improving future works.

Flames will be snickered at.

There's a Preview Excerpt from the upcoming continuation: "And One More Thing I Hate About You", following the scrolling credits, so stick around.

.

Thanks much,

- Ironbear

* * *

.

**An RFI Studios Film**

"**And Another Thing I Hate About You!"**

Produced by Pixelated Studios

and

Radio Free Productions

A Screamworks Film

Screenplay courtesy of Random Visions Studios

© 2012 Ironbear and Disreputable Press under Creative Commons licensing

.

Directed by: …... Weschler Graham

Produced by: …... Ambrose Dyson Collache

Written by: …... Ferrous Ursine

Ironbear

Evil Ted

Distributed by: …... Electric Chicken

Release Date(s) …... Jan 31, 2013 (It wasn't released – it _escaped_)

Running Time: …... Infinity

Language: …... Gibberish

.

**Title Credits:**

Pain is So Close to Pleasure …... Queen

Tequila, Te-Kill-ya …... Old drunk's slogan

Thin Ice and Heavy Vibe …... Take off on Dire Straits' "Heavy Fuel"

Don't Sop Me Now …... From "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen

Life is a Lemon …... From "Life is a Lemon" by Meatloaf

On a Long and Lonesome Highway …... From song of same title

When Inlaws are Outlawed …... Play on old anti Gun Control snark

It's Been a Hard Knight's Day …... Play on "Hard Day's Night" by the Beatles

Long Distance Information …... (Song Title)

All Revved Up With no Place We Want to Go ... Play on lyric from "All Revved Up"

Ain't No Doubt About It …... From: "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights"

One Night in Sunnydale …... Play on "One Night in Bankok"

Kissy Kissy Bang Bang …... Play on "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" (movie)

Smokin' Cigarettes and Watching …... From "Countin' Flowers on the Wall"

Playing Solitaire 'til Dawn …... From "Countin' Flowers on the Wall"

Got a Red Light Love …... From "Red Light Love"

Well, I'm Not the World's Most Physical Guy …... From "Lola" by The Kinks

For I am Shielded in my Armor …... From "I am a Rock"

But My Dreams They Aren't as Empty …... From "Behind Blue Eyes"

I Wanna Love You (But I Better Not Touch) …... From "Poison" by Alice Cooper

I Wanna Hurt You (Just to Hear You Scream) …... From "Poison" by Alice Cooper

Met 'im in a Swamp Down in Dagobah …... From "Yoda" by Weird Al

Charge of the Not so Light Brigade …... Play on "Charge of the Light Brigade"

Girls Will be Boys and Girls etc …... From "Lola"

Learned a Few Things From Charlie etc …... From "Copperhead Road" by Steve Earl

Put a Candle in the Window …... From "Long as I can See the Light"

There's a Lesson to be Learned …... From "Red Rubber Ball" by Cyrkle

And I Think It's Gonna be All Right …... From "Red Rubber Ball" by Cyrkle

.

**Starring:** (More or Less in order of Appearance)

Charisma Carpenter …... Cordelia Persephone Chase-Harris

Holly Hunter …... Still Quiet Voice

Nicholas Brendan …... Alexander "Xander" LaVelle Harris-Chase

Dennis Leary …... Still Small Voice

David Boreanez …... Angel-cakes

August Richards …... Charles Gunn

Amy Acker …... Winifred "Fred" Burkle

Anthony Hallet …... Krevlornswath "Lorne" of the Deathwok Clan

Mark Lutz …... The Groosalug aka "Groo"

Patrick St. Espirit …... Jenoff

Jason Carter …... Repo Man Demon 1 & 2

Kelly Donovan …... Alex (Subconscious Xan);

Alexander LaVelle Dresden Harris aka Wizard Xander

David Wells …... The Cheese Man

Eliza Dushku …... Faith Michelle Lehane

Anthony Head …... Rupert Giles

B. J. Porter …... Phantom Dennis

Jennifer Love Hewitt …... Melissa "Mellie" Warren

Michael Dudikoff …... Jess Corey

Subhash Ghai …... Mr. Shamar

Stephanie Romanov …... Lilah Morgan

Alexis Denisof …... Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

Rachel True …... Roxanne

Raquel Darr …... Extremely Female Pornstarlet

John Rubenstein …... Linwood Murrow

Lou Diamond Phillips …... Wolfram & Hart Investigator

Michael Halsey …... Rutherford Sirk

Fred Ward …... Anthony Harris (Xander's Dad)

Amber Benson …... Tara Maclay

Sarah Michelle Gellar …... Buffy Anne Summers

Michelle Trachtenberg …... Dawn Summers

James Marsters …... William the Bloody aka Spike

The Fresh Hearts (as themselves) …... Band at Bronze

Danny Strong …... Jonathan Levinson

Adam Busch …... Warren Mears

Tom Lenk …... Andrew Welles

Grace Park …... Girl with Jock

Jerry O'Connell …... "Frank"

Jared Padalecki …... Second Guy in Bar

Amber Lee Ettinger …... Girl in Bar #1

Amber Tamblyn …... Girl in Bar #2

Lacey Chabert …... Girl in Bar #3

Vida Guerra …... Girl in Bar #4

Alyson Hannigan …... Willow Rosenberg

Reed Diamond …... Guy in Suit

Barney Calhoun …... Security Guard #1

Darrel Calhoun …... Security Guard #2

Rory Calhoun …... Security Guard #3

James Charles Leary …... Clem

Emma Caulfield …... Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins (Anyanka)

Chief Bob Munroe …... Brian Reddy

Detective Harry Stein …... James G. MacDonald

Alexander Siddig …... Dr. Shamshir M.D.

Kristine Sutherland …... Joyce Summers

David Herman …... David Nabbit

Jesse McNally …... Eric Balfour

Powers Booth …... Uncle Rory Harris

Dana Delaney …... Jessica Harris

Ara Celli …... Ampata Gutierrez

Ben Browder …... Soldier Boy Xander

Bianca Lawson …... Kendra Young

Kelly Donovan …... Hyena Xander #1

Nathan Dushku …... Hyena Xander #2 (Lon Chaney version)

Fab Fillipo …... Scott Hope

Eion Bailey …... Kyle DuFours

Michelle McCrain …... Rhonda Kelly

Brian Goss …... Tor Hauer

Jennifer Sky …... Heidi Barrie

George Hertzberg …... ADAM

Channon Roe …... Jack O'Toole

Alastair Duncan …... Collins

Jeff Ricketts …... Weatherby

Kevin Owers …... Smythe

Chris Wiggins …... Watcher #1

David Hewlett …... Watcher #2 (Shot Watcher)

Robert Picardo …... Watcher #3

George D. Wallace …... Imposter Older Xander Demon

Nicholas Brendan …... Goofball Xander

Kelly Donovan …... Cool Xander

Hinton Battle …... Sweet

Michael Bailey Smith …... Toth

Sharon Ferguson …... Eldest Slayer/First Slayer/The Primitive

Phina Oruche …... "Cool English Black Lady"/Olivia

Lexx …... Kelly Donovan

Alesha Dixon …... Hot Communications Tech Xander

Jeri Ryan …... 36 of D

Jolene Blaylock …... T'Pol

Marina Sirtis …... Counselor Deanna Troy

Marc Blucas …... Riley Finn

Seth Green …... Daniel "Oz" Osbourne

And Ghani as Herself

.

Musical Score: …... Danny Elfman, Isao Tomita, and Jean-Michel Jarre

Performed by: …... Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Animusic, and Mannheim Steamroller

**Soundtrack: **assembled by Chunderstorm Soundworks and X-cellent Music and Lyrics

.

**Opening Credits: **Here Without You – 3 Doors Down

**Closing Credits: **Cryin' – Aerosmith

.

**Stunts:**

X-perimentalMan F/X - ScreamWerks - Mythbreaker Effects

Stunt Coordinators: Yakko, Wakko, and Dot

Stunt Double (Xander Harris) …... Max Besh

Stunt Double (Cordelia Chase) …... Wendie Buchannon

Stunt Double (Faith Lehane) …... Missy Pantone

Stunt Double (Angel) …... Lance Valenteen

Stunt Double (Groosalug) …... Mark Henry

Stunt Double (Buffy Summers) …... Bridget Kelly

.

**Filmed in Xandavision**

**Sound by:**

Blucas-Arts ZHX - Fruity-Loops - Dead Air Space

ZHX – The Audience is Deafened

CGI Effects by Pixelated Productions and Daz-botz Studios

Catering by Chumwad Fine Cuisine and Oh-what-a-Friend We Have in Cheeses

DVD release: Not Available.

Director's Cut Version: Still trapped in the Author's head, screaming to get out.

.

(Insert obligatory FBI and RIA WARNING shite Here)

* * *

_**Stay tuned for a brief excerpt from the upcoming sequel: **_**"And One ****_More_ Thing I Hate About You!" - Book II: A Crazy Little Thing Called Love**


	39. A bonus excerpt from -

_**Coming Soon from Disreputable Press!**_

**A bonus excerpt from the upcoming "And One More Thing I Hate About You!":**

* * *

"_It was _then_ that elgeneralisimo understood that peace of mind and the imposition of one's will can be achieved through superior firepower... and you ruin less meat if you shoot 'em in the head.__"_

― El Generalissimo

* * *

He woke up muzzy headed and with a headache like a tequila hangover, to find slinky coral snake lady standing there looking down at him with a whole shitpot full of goons about.

_'Shit. Hungover and with a mouth like an ashtray again,'_ Still Small remarked. _'Cordy is gonna _kill_ us if we got married again.'_

Heh. I don't think we got laid last night, bud. Just fucked.

Two of the goons hauled him up, groaning, and stood him up with his back to a roof support post, facing Ms. Coral Snake. And a tall, grey eyed, scar-faced goon who gave him the cold shivers, and a strange looking goon who gave him worse ones.

"Well, now," Lilah Morgan said, breaking off her conversation with scarry guy. She looked at him like a cat with a crippled mouse. "I see you're awake finally. And I do hope you're feeling cooperative."

_'Sure hope like hell Cordy's tuned to the vision channel,'_ Still Small said. _'And that she brings the cavalry running.'_

You and me both.

"Going to be awfully difficult, seeing as I don't know what you want," Xander managed to get out past his dry throat. "And I really hate it when people throw me surprise parties."

_'Hey. Smart-assing psychotics isn't your best move there, dumb ass.'_

When you have a better one, feel free to trot it out. Still Small didn't answer. Probably sulking.

"Well, this is difficult for me, too, you know," Lilah was saying, when Xander tuned back in, "I happen to like you. Matter of fact, I find you _fascinating_." She smirked at him, "But since when does '_like_' have anything to do with anything?"

Yup. Rolling around naked and playing with coral snakes. Bad Guys one-hundred, Butt-monkey of the Universe, zero. And Oz was dead. He wasn't gonna think about that... Xander shivered slightly as the Wolfram and Hart operative yanked his hands around behind him and handcuffed him to the roof support. Scarred W&H guy stepped back and away.

This bitch was more than just scary...

"Never ever," Xander said, nodding. "Look – whatever you want. I'm no hero. But you're not giving me a whole lot of incentive to work with here. Or any, yet."

He surreptitiously, at least as surreptitious as he could, flexed his arms and wrists, testing the restraints. Hmm. These wouldn't hold a Slayer. Or Hyena-Boy.

But he wasn't a Slayer. Not even close. And Hyena was integrated into his psyche and buried somewhere down deep where he was never getting to the surface again...

_'Always knew there was a drawback to that whole re-integration thing,'_ Still Small remarked.

Gee. You shoulda said something.

_'Sorry, Boss. I'll do better next time.'_

Ms. Coral Snake was still talking, "Oh, I think you have plenty of incentive. Talk to me, and we become fast friends." She licked her lips, suggestively. "Don't... " Lilah smirked again. "And I'm sure you can fill in the blanks."

The other W&H guy, short and stocky, stepped beside her, holding his SIG, with Xander's .45 in his belt. The third, the tall scarred one, her obvious second fiddle, stood off a ways, still playing with deceptive casualness with Xander's big, ivory handled bowie. He smirked too, his pale grey eyes locked on Xander's.

Eyes holding a depressing promise and a rather disturbing anticipation.

But it was the guy standing to coral snake bitch's left that _really_ worried Xander. That one just had something about him and his sardonic smirk that said 'wizard', even to Xander's untrained eye. That and the rings on each finger, similar to Dresden's or Wizard Him's, and the rune covered slave-bracelet glove thingy on his left hand and wrist, attached to the ring finger ring with a short chain...

The clinical detachment in his eyes bothered Xander even more than the anticipation in scarred and grey's.

"Sure. Me genre savvy," Xander said. He carefully kept his eyes locked on hers. "But me – I'm also thinking you're not from around here, huh?"

"Stalling for time for your friends to arrive?" Lilah Morgan laughed. "Me genre savvy too. But I'll bite – why is that important?"

"You just never _know_ what you're gonna find in an abandoned warehouse in Sunnydale... "

It had come in through the unlocked and open upstairs window, leaping easily to land on the mesh catwalk below. And from there to the next lower one, where it drifted down the stairs at a deceptively slow looking speed.

A golden mass hit the guy at the back, the one with the shotgun, between the shoulders like a floating missile.

Huge, leopard killing teeth closed on the back of his neck, between shoulders and base of skull.

There was a snap and a jerk and a rather horrid moist sounding crack!

Thug-at-back number two, the one with the little pistol sized MP5-k, had quick reflexes. He managed to turn partially in time for the ivory teeth to close and meet in the wrist of his right hand. His gun hand.

There was a snap and a jerk. Sub-machine gun went flying, or began to. His eyes widened horrifically, and his left hand began to reach toward his wounded wrist...

Thug-near-back, the one with the other 12ga, was also quick.

It didn't help.

A drifting cloud of golden fur came off of the floor in a floating leap. Those leopard killing teeth closed and met, and sixty-five pounds of Afghan Hound put its entire body into a snap and shake that took out throat, windpipe and all, down to the vertebrae in the back.

He began to fall as the venous and arterial blood spray jetted out. The shotgun went off, past the hound's body, and a load of double-ought caught another thug in the midsection and folded him like a hinge.

Two dead, possibly three. One disabled. Less than six seconds.

That drifty, floaty looking run surrounded by that cloud of long silky hair is deceptively slow looking. Afghan Hounds are _fast_.

One of the oldest pure dog breeds in existence. Those huge ivory fangs were designed by generations and centuries of selective breeding for the purpose of killing gazelles on the run and for pairs in taking down leopards in the Afghanistan and Pakistan wilds. And the muscles in those long, slender jaws in that narrow head have the machinery to do it.

As many Copper Units of Pressure per square centimeter as a German Shepherd, or more. Maybe as many CUP as a Blue Heeler's, even.

Number one was on the ground and number two was dropping to his knees, holding his wrist and screaming, while number three was still going over backwards, spraying blood.

Number four had time to turn fully, bringing her weapon up as she died. A snap slash jerk crack! disabled the weapon wrist and a snap slash yank ripped out the throat as she went over backward with Ghani on her chest.

Two more seconds. She'd had time to get off two shots as she came around, both of which went spang! off of the concrete floor and buried themselves in something off to the back.

Grey eyes was stepping back. Guy-in-front of Xander was turning away toward the commotion. Pity that.

For him.

Too damn bad the bitch took my balls, Xander thought.

_'And she looked like she enjoyed it far too much, too,'_ Still Small said, smirking.

Bet she did. Xander concentrated and put his shoulders, his arms, and his entire self into bringing his hands apart. He had no idea that his eyes went hazel and then flashed green, briefly.

To his never ending amazement, the chain between the cuffs parted like heavy twine.

Guy-in-front of him heard the _snap!_ching! apparently, for he began to turn back as Xander came forward off of the support.

A pity. Idiot. Should have shot me when you first heard the ruckus in back. Only thing you can do with a handgun when you draw it is pull the trigger, or you might as well stick it under your chin and squeeze. It sounded like Soldier-boy's voice. But Soldier-boy was dead and integrated, wasn't he?

Xander did _just_ that. He got his right hand on the gun in the guy's right hand as it came around, pushed it up as he yanked, twisted, and squeezed.

It went off with a flat, muffled crack under the guy's chin and he jerked it from the guy's dying grasp as blood, gray matter, and bone chips sprayed from the top of his skull. He spun it around in his grip, taking it into a firing stance as he flashed a fast look around.

Lilah was nowhere to be seen. No, wait – a flash of dark blue skirt and nylons as she threw herself back and away behind a stack of something.

Wizard guy was backpedaling rapidly, throwing his left hand out before him, finger's crooked in some sort of arcane gesture. Or maybe a fraternity sign...

Xander's second shot hit something in front of the guy that coruscated with ripples of red light –

– He ignored him after that, as the shot spanged! away, for the Afghan was drifting up on number six and Wizzy was focused on Xander.

The scarred guy with his knife was doing the same as Lilah, to the other side. Xander's first three shots went over or under or behind him as he hit the floor rolling, the bullets thudding into pallets or spanging off of concrete. He felt, more than saw or sensed, Wizzy shouting something in a gargling language that sounded like Klingon, and threw himself rolling to the side as a bolt of reddish-green energy went through the space he'd just occupied. He came up to one knee, the .357 SIG hunting for the scarred guy...

No target. Damn.

He took the next best thing, bringing the SIG around to center on a still standing guy who was in the process of bringing his Hk MP-5 down to bear on Ghani as she took out the throat and vertebrae of victim number six.

_No one_ shoots my dog, asshole.

He centered the front sight as he came up in a Weaver stance, and the guy must've caught the motion, for he arrested his swing, a three round burst blatting out as he tried to switch directions and targets. Xander never knew that his eyes had turned a brilliant and icy blue somewhere along the way...

Caught leaning. Idiot. Always take out the target under your sights _first_, that voice that sounded like Soldier-boy said in the back of Xander's mind.

The first shot went high, right, and slightly wide as Xander lined up on him. Then idiot caught two .357 SIG hollow points in the center mass and one in the face – just in case he had body armor on. Damn. Pistol actually shot where the sights looked. Whoda thunk it.

A bag of bone chips, bloodshot meat, and an exit hole the size of a fastball. He stood there swaying as the back of his head sprayed out all over everything behind him, and there was a ripping flatulent sound.

Xander brought the handgun around and shot the idiot way at the back through the head also, the screaming one holding his damaged blood spraying wrist.

_Just_ to shut off the fucking noise.

And the SIG stove-piped on that last round, an empty case not quite clearing the ejection port.

Idiot. Can't shoot when he should, and probably can't clean and maintain a fucking firearm, a mental voice that _still_ sounded like Soldier-boy snarled.

And everything went deathly silent.

_'Apt choice of words, that, Boss,'_ Still Small said, sounding impressed.

Thank yew, thank yew, thank you verra verra much. I do try.

Lilah stood from behind her stack of cover. She apparently had no weapon, for her hands were empty and held out to the side, palms out and forward facing him. She had a look of pale, wide eyed shock on her face, and her jaw was hanging open.

Ghani left behind the twitching, spraying, shitting corpse of unlucky number sleven, Wizzy, and drifted over to Lilah Morgan, bloody lips rippling back from blood stained choppers. A low rumble came from deep in her chest. Lilah backed away, her eyes widening still more.

Ten dead. Probably less than fifteen seconds, total, not counting the time it had taken Ghani to drift down the stairs...

"Just amazing how fast it all goes to shit, isn't it?" Xander said, quietly, his ears ringing in the sudden silence. "_Ghani_."

The tall, lean dog stopped, her eyes still fixed on Lilah, and low snarls still rippling out.

"_Watch_ her." Xander knelt to pull his Para-Ordnance .45 from the belt of Idiot-in-Front number one, he of the blown out skull...

"It purely is, isn't it," The scarred guy said as he stood up from behind a stack of barrels. He had another SIG in his left hand, and Xander's knife still in his right. Must of pulled the pistol while he was down and away... "Just goes all to _crap_ in a heartbeat and a hand-basket."

Xander froze, smiling lopsidedly and feeling sick inside. He stood slowly and tossed the jammed and useless SIG onto a stack of boxes and trash, and held his empty hands out to the sides.

"Shoot him, you idiot," Lilah snarled. "And then shoot this fucking dog."

_'Love you too, honey,'_ Still Small said.

"Oh, shut up, you moronic cunt," Scarred Guy said, rolling his eyes. Lilah jerked back as if she'd been slapped, her face going pale. Pale-_er_.

"I told you we should have put one in the back of his head as soon as we yanked his unconscious ass into the SUV," Scarred Guy added, his tone conversational. "Just as soon as you took his balls away."

"Probably the thing she's really best at," Xander said, still smiling. His tone was equally conversational.

"Hah! Good one, mate," Scarred Guy nodded, his eyes never having left Xander's. "Good dog, that. Yours?"

Xander nodded.

Scarred guy nodded back. "Think I'll leave and let him or her have the bitch, after I kill you. I don't much hold with killing animals."

Lilah let out an outraged sound, and they both ignored her.

_'Snerk. I think I like _him_,"_ Still Small said, _'All except for the killing _us_ thing, anyway... '_

"Just people, huh?" Xander's voice was quiet.

Shrug. "No offense, but most people deserve it more than most dogs, mate," Scarred Guy remarked. He shook his head. "And, gotta say – never saw you coming, either. Three dead bang in five seconds. Not bad."

"Hey," Xander shrugged, easily, not moving his hands. "Thirty-six years of non-stop combat experience from Kasserine Pass to here in Sunnydale will do that for you."

"Hah! Good one, and you can't even be more than twenty, twenty-two at the max." Scarred Guy gave a genuine laugh. "Gonna be a shame to kill you," he said, de-cocking the SIG and taking a careful step to one side to lay it down atop a nearby barrel.

"You don't have to, you know. Just walk away," Xander said.

Scarred and Grey shrugged. "You killed three of my men. Dog got three," he said. "When a man's partners are killed, he's supposed to do something about it, right?"

"What are you _doing_, you idiot? Kill him!" Lilah's voice snarled out.

"_Ghani_. She talks again, kill her," Xander said, his voice casual. There was a rippling snarl in response, and a shocked gasp and a click of teeth as Lilah's mouth snapped shut.

Grey eyes smiled in sardonic appreciation, and nodded.

He switched Xander's big, twelve inch bladed Moeller fighting bowie to his left hand in place of the handgun, and crab stepped over to Xander, dropping into a crouch. Knife up and before him, right hand held up to block.

"Nothing in your file said you had any of this in you," he remarked. "Let's see what else you got."

There was a soft metallic thump from up on the catwalk near the window Ghani had entered by, and Faith's awed sounding voice came drifting down to them.

"Holy shivering fuck, Xan."

Both of them ignored her.

"Files aren't everything," Xander Harris said, sliding into a hand to hand vs knife stance that his mind provided him, unbidden. A peculiar, gentle, half smile slid onto his face, and an eerie calm came to those brown eyes.

Brown eyes that suddenly went hazel green, and warm, and crinkled slightly at the corners in a smile that didn't quite reach past the eyelids.

"Yer feeling froggy there, go ahead and jump," Xander said. "Mate."

* * *

.

"**And One _More_ Thing I Hate About You!"**

**Book II of "Love and Loathing in Las Vegas": A Crazy Little Thing Called Love.**

_**Coming soon to a website near you.**_


End file.
